


The Choice

by Donnies_Lady_87



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Brothers, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Possible Character Death, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donnies_Lady_87/pseuds/Donnies_Lady_87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donnie suffers from a series of increasingly disturbing nightmares which only Mikey is aware that he is having, but are the nightmares actually premonitions?  If so, can Donnie stop a horrifying event happening or will he loose everyone he cares about, including April?  *This was my very first fanfiction, please be gentle! :) *  Was Nominated for 'Best Portrayal of Donatello' in the Universal TMNT Fanfiction Competition 2016. :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night Terrors

**Chapter 1 Night Terrors**

Mikey had been shifting through the fridge, having suffered from an attack of the midnight munchies when he heard the frightened shout. He frowned worriedly and closed the door. The snack would have to wait.

"Not again," he murmured, venturing into the living room and looking in the direction of his older brother's room. It sounded bad this time. Real bad. There was only one thing for it. I'm comin' bro," Mikey whispered. "I'm comin'."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the darkness a figure writhed in his bed, trapped in the throes of his nightmare. The young turtle thrashed around and rolled over, the sheets sticking to his clammy skin.

_'What's the matter turtle? Too hard to decide?'_

_'How can I?'_

_'It's easy,' the familiar voice mocked. 'One or two?'_

_'I can't!'_

_'You must, otherwise you know what happens,' the disembodied tone continued unsympathetically. 'The clock, is ticking.'_

_'Damn you!'_

_'Choose turtle.'_

_'How, can I possibly choose?!'_

_'Choose!'_

_Hesitation. 'I can't!'_

_'Time's up.'_

_'NO!'_

Pained screams tore through his mind. His hand reached up desperately but it was far too late.

"Donnie? Donnie wake up!"

Donatello bolted upright, startling his youngest brother who staggered backwards from the suddenness of his waking. "Mikey?"

The bedside light was instantly switched on and both brothers blinked at the abrupt and unforgiving brightness of the artificial light. Mikey lowered his hand. "Whoa dude, you look awful."

Donnie looked down, feeling the cold sweat that saturated his olive green skin. A shaking hand was pressed against his face as he struggled to get a hold of himself. Upset breaths shuddered in his chest and a lump pressed hard in his throat. It took several minutes, (Mikey waiting surprisingly patiently), before the gap tooth genius could trust himself enough to speak.

"You okay bro?" Michelangelo asked quietly.

"Sh-sure."

"Same dream again?"

Donatello drew a sharp breath and held it, answering his sibling's question without saying a word. He didn't meet the concerned blue gaze. He couldn't.

"This is the third time in two weeks man. You really need to talk to Splinter about this."

Donnie shook his head. "No, no I can't. Not until I can explain it. Explain why it's happening."

"Dreams are dreams Donnie, everyone has them even real bad ones."

His smart brother shuddered. "Not like this Mikey."

Michelangelo sighed. Nothing frustrated Donatello more than something he couldn't explain. Something he couldn't rationalise. But Donnie wasn't frustrated now, he was scared and it was reflected with every movement he made. Mikey glanced to the side, he was no great thinker but he wanted to help.

"You've been having these dreams since you got zapped by that security computer panel thing."

Donnie was about to correct Mikey automatically when a flash of the dream passed through his mind. The words died on the back of his throat. His brother did have a point though. He'd been trying to override a security panel at a suspected Kraang warehouse and he couldn't remember what he'd done wrong. He must of inadvertently overloaded a circuit or simply touched the wrong connection, which was ridiculous really, he was usually so careful. Whatever Donnie had done he had received the electric shock of his life. He'd woken up several hours later in the lair surrounded by the worried faces of his concerned family. Apparently the 'zap' as Mikey so eloquently put it, had sent him flying halfway across the room.

Donatello had received numerous shocks in his life but none that had rendered him completely unconscious before. Surely though, nightmares weren't a side effect of electrocution? No, death usually was. Donnie shook involuntarily, squeezing his eyes shut as the word burned into his thoughts. He was damn lucky to be alive. Maybe the dream really was a side effect to his shock. He'd almost suffered a near death experience, maybe this was just what? A coping mechanism? No. Why would a coping mechanism give him such a horrifying repetitive nightmare?

Donatello groaned and brought both hands to his head. His temples were throbbing and a dull ache began to manifest itself deep in his skull. It literally hurt to think. He lay back down, hands not leaving his aching head. He hated not being able to concentrate. He hated when he couldn't explain things. He hated-

"Do you need an aspirin?"

"An aspirin would be good," Donnie grumbled.

"Be right back bro."

The youth rolled his head to the door, watching his little brother leave to fetch what he needed. He couldn't really believe that, for the third time it was Mikey that had heard him. He wasn't about to complain about it either. The fewer who knew about the nightmares the better. Donnie didn't want to worry anyone else. He was also grateful that Mikey had kept the secret, although he had looked more concerned now than he had been on the other two occasions. If it happened again, he was more than certain that Mikey would seek out help even if he asked for it or not.

Michelangelo soon returned, setting a glass of water on the bedside table. He crouched down, arms resting on the mattress and waited until his brother had taken the pill before speaking again. "Any better?"

"It'll take a while for the painkillers to kick in Mikey."

"That's not what I meant," the younger turtle said quietly.

Donnie tilted his head so he was staring at the ceiling. He scrunched his eyes shut and muttered something that he thought was inaudible. "Stupid nightmare."

"More like a night terror dude."

"It wasn't a night terror Mikey," Donatello said flatly.

"Sure sounded like one-"

"It wasn't!"

A hand was briefly rested on his shoulder. "Bro, you were screaming." Donnie gazed back at his brother with slight bewilderment. He hadn't realised he had been vocal. "If the others weren't dead to the world right now they'd all be in here."

Donnie stiffened. "Please don't use that word."

"What word?"

He looked away again. "It doesn't matter."

A short lapse of silence followed. Mikey hovered, not sure of what he should do. "You, wanna talk about it now?"

Donatello clenched the sheet against his plastron, staring blindly at the bricks above and shook his head stiffly. "No," he croaked.

Mikey sighed and reluctantly got to his feet. There was not point to him staying if his brother refused to open up to him. "If you say so," he headed for the door. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

Suddenly learning that his little brother was leaving, Donnie felt an inexplicable sense of panic wash through him. The final echoes of the dream repeated in his mind again and an irrational fear filled him, that if Mikey left he wouldn't see him again. Being who he was, he knew that was indeed ridiculous but the horrible notion wouldn't leave him alone. "Mikey?"

Michelangelo paused at the door. "Yeah bro?"

"I er-, Could-?"

Mikey frowned curiously. His usually articulate brother couldn't say the words but it was clearly written across his face. "Do you want me to stay?"

Donnie looked down at his hands and finally back up. He still couldn't bring himself to say it. He felt like a frightened child who believed monsters were camping under his bed. He gave a slight nod.

Mikey smiled gently and stepped back into the room. "Okay Donnie, I'll stay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A couple hours later both turtles were still wide-awake. The bedside light remained on, for, obvious reasons. Checking the time on his clock, Donnie groaned. 2:14 AM. Great. He rolled onto his side and regarded Mikey almost enviously as he held a comic book over his head, clearly not as tired as he should have been at that hour. He didn't ask any questions. He didn't pry; he just lay on the blanket on the floor beside Donatello's bed doing just what he promised. Staying. Keeping his older brother company.

Hearing the groan Mikey rested his comic on his chest. "Still awake huh?"

"Mmmhmm," was all Donnie could muster.

"You're still thinking about that dream, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

Mikey propped himself on his elbows. "You need to shut that big brain of yours off Donnie."

"I know," was the sighed response.

Michelangelo flopped back down, frowning thoughtfully as he raised his comic back up.

Donatello listened idly as his brother let the comic's pages flap down and lightly crinkle as he thumbed through it, a sound that the smart turtle found oddly reassuring.

"You know what I was thinking earlier?"

Donnie took a deep breath in. "What Mikey?"

"Those awesome ninja smoke bombs you make? I was just wondering if you could make real bombs like that?"

"It's certainly feasible," Donnie uttered thoughtfully. "Finding the appropriate chemical compounds that could be utilised might be tricky but not entirely impossible-"

"What about exploding shurikens?" Mikey innocently interrupted, not catching the annoyed looked that was thrown his way. "They would be totally epic!"

The annoyance quickly faded however and the cogs in Donnie's brain immediately starting whirring. That was actually a pretty damn good idea. Hand held mini explosive devices. Who knew when they would come in handy? As it normally did whenever Donnie got an idea various thoughts flooded his mind all at once. He quickly disregarded the ones that weren't entirely suitable and started to mentally work on the ideas of which were more viable and likely to work.

However the more Donatello thought, the more jumbled his ideas became until they ceased to make any sense at all. A rich nothingness flowed through his mind and after several hours of pained wakefulness, sleep finally found Donnie.

Still flipping through the pages, Mikey tilted his head up slightly. His sibling's breathing had changed to a more restful tone. "Donnie?" He pushed himself up a bit further to get a better look. Yep. He was definitely asleep.

Michelangelo put his comic to one side and sat up, propping himself against the head of the bed, next to bedside table. Smiling he reached for Donnie's lamp and switched off the light. "Night bro," he whispered and drew the blanket across himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Donnie blinked heavy eyes open, the room was completely dark but he didn't recall turning off his light. Blearily he checked his alarm clock, 5:30AM. Well, that was better. Mikey must of switched off the light and slipped away after he-

It was then that Donnie noticed the gentle breathing issuing just below him. Curious he reached out and his fingers brushed across something. With a slight intake of breath the young turtle realised. Mikey had stayed with him for the entire night. A lump unexpectedly rose in Donnie's throat. After such a horrible nightmare, which had played further than before leaving the blood of his loved ones splattered across his mind, it was a wonderful reassurance to have one of those loved ones guarding his bed whilst he slept.

He hadn't expected Michelangelo to stay. The last two instances he had left when Donnie told him to but the dream, though disturbing hadn't been as harrowing as it had been that night.

Donatello blinked back unexpected tears and let his hand slip from his brother's head, to his shoulder. "Thank you Mikey," he murmured, closing his eyes once more, leaving his hand where it lay. "Thank you," and sleep claimed for a second time.


	2. Bombs and Break-ins

Morning arrived and left, rolling quickly by for those who were unaware of the time. It was a rather groggy Donatello who reached out for the clock. 11:53AM. The young turtle bolted upright, dislodging something that landed on the floor with a squeak. He’d seriously overslept! Why hadn’t Mikey woken him up?! Why hadn’t he- That’s when Donnie caught sight of Michelangelo’s teddy bear lying on the floor. He swung his legs out of bed and reached down to pick it up.

Even when he wasn’t here, Mikey obviously didn’t want to leave his brother completely alone, like in a bout of childlike whimsy when you once believed that your most beloved toy had a soul. They could keep anyone company. Donnie produced a gentle smile and placed the teddy bear back on his bed. He quickly donned his gear and left his room.

Donnie instinctively headed for the dojo; no doubt that was everyone would be. He was only halfway when he caught sight of April. She was utilizing the space at the back of the lair, practising the newest move that Master Splinter had taught her.

Forgetting everything else, Donnie stopped and couldn’t help but watch. Her movements were so fluid and graceful, whether she realized it or not. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there; drawn in by the intense concentration that held her statuesque features. Time ceased to have any meaning.

The spell was finally broken when April overbalanced herself executing a roundhouse kick. Donnie darted forward, catching her as she fell before he realized what he was doing.

“You have to watch your feet there April.”

“Thanks Donnie,” April uttered. “I thought I had that.”

“You were doing well up until that point.”

“You’ve been watching?” She glanced up. “For how long?”

“Oh, I um-,” Donnie’s flustered explanation was thankfully interrupted by the unmistakable sound of his brothers as they left the dojo.

“Hey Donnie!” Raph’s strong voice carried across the lair. “Heard you missed training because you were up babysitting Mikey all night! The dork was reading his horror comics.”

“Huh?” Donatello looked somewhat confused as his brothers came into view.

“That’s one job I wouldn’t want!”

“Hey!”

Raph cuffed Mikey about the back of the head before his bright green eyes caught sight of Donnie. “There we are working our butts off and what are you doing? Dancing with April!”

“What?” With a sudden flush of embarrassment, Donnie was aware that he still held April in his arms. He hastily let her go and the others snickered. “April tripped.”

“Whatever you say Donnie,” Raph quipped.

Mikey giggled and Leo struggled to keep the smile off his face. He failed. “Master Splinter said that he will see you now April.”

“Thanks Leo,” the pretty redhead smiled, unwittingly touching Donnie’s shoulder before leaving for the dojo.

“So, what moves did you show you girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend and I wasn’t dancing!” Donnie protested hotly.

“Sure.”

Donnie spun about. “Zip it Mikey!” After such a dreadful night, he was in no mood for any of their teasing. He roughly pushed through them and stalked in the direction of his lab.

“Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Leo muttered. He knew April could tend to be a sensitive topic for his younger brother but he usually wasn’t this touchy.

The moment Donatello left, the smile was immediately wiped from Mikey’s face. He darted after him, reaching for his arm. “Donnie! Hey Donnie wait up!”

“Leave it out Mikey!” Donatello snapped, shrugging away the hand that brushed against his shoulder. “I’ve had enough!”

Mikey persisted and grabbed Donnie by the ridge of his shell. “Donnie!” He wrenched him round.

“What!?”

For a second Mikey shrank back a step as Donatello towered over him. “You do know I was just playing along, right?” He said quietly.

The anger faded from Donnie’s features as quickly as it had arrived and his rigid stance relaxed. “Oh,” he uttered, not really knowing what else to say.

“I just wanted you to know I didn’t mean it.”

“Okay,” the purple banded turtle nodded.

Michelangelo’s smile returned, reassured that his brother knew and turned to leave.

“Hey Mikey?”

Mikey glanced back. “Yeah bro?”

Donnie hesitated. “Thanks for, covering for me.”

“Hey! What are brothers for?”

Donnie found himself grinning as he watched Mikey caper off. He finally turned and carried on to his lab. He had some shurikens to adapt.  
__________________________________________________________________

The next morning came and went without incident but Donatello still slept with the light on. It was early evening when April rushed into the lair bearing her laptop. “Guys! Check this out,” she slid the computer onto the kitchen table and flipped up the lid. “Someone just posted this for me, a video of a suspected break-in. I think it might be a Kraang warehouse.”

Leo, Raph and Mikey had just gathered around the April’s laptop when an explosion suddenly shook the walls of the lair.

“Earthquake!”

“They don’t have earthquakes in New York you dork,” Raph responded to Mikey’s panicked squeal, punching him in the shoulder.

Purple smoke billowed out of Donatello’s lab and Leonardo suppressed a groan. “That’s the second time today,” he muttered. “Donnie! Are you sure you’re not trying to blow us all up?”

A series of coughs escaped the quickly dissipating smoke and Donnie soon staggered out. “Okay, I won’t be using flash powder in that combination again.”

“Donnie, have you got a moment? April has something to show us.”

That was the magic word. “Oh! Yeah, yeah,” Donnie wasted no more time. He joined them; unaware of the soot that blackened the front of him caused by the blast of his unsuccessful experiment.

“It’s from a phone and a bit blurry but check it out for yourselves,” April sat back as she started the video, failing to hide the smile at Donnie’s appearance as he hovered over her shoulder.

“What makes you think this is a Kraang warehouse April?”

April’s eyes flitted up to Leo’s before looking back at her laptop. “Because of this,” she pointed to the screen.

The video showed a view which had been taken from a high window but what it showed was obviously several broken crates with abandoned Kraang tech spilling out of them.

“If this is a break-in where are the thieves?” Raph said flatly.

“That’s just it, the outside of the building was completely untouched but someone had definitely got in, somehow.”

Leo folded his arms as he analyzed the screen. “Well, whoever it is we can’t afford to let that disused Kraang technology to fall into the wrong hands. I say we-“

“April stop!”

Leo frowned as Donnie interrupted, clearly not paying attention to anything his brother had just said. 

Without thinking Donatello leant over April’s shoulder. “Rewind the video back a bit.”

Leo stepped closer, his annoyance swiftly vanishing. “What have you seen Donnie?”

April leaned away slightly as Donnie inadvertently pushed into her space as she slid her cursor across the screen to rewind the video.

“That’s it, stop!” A couple of seconds passed and Donnie pointed at the screen. “There! There! Can you see it?”

The others were clearly confused. “Not with your finger in the way genius,” Raph said gruffly.

It was only then that Donnie realized how much he’d invaded April’s personal space and immediately shied back, his rush of embarrassment thankfully hidden by the mask of soot. “Sorry,” he muttered with a sheepish gap tooth grin. “April, may I?” He pointed to the laptop.

With a slight smile the girl stood and allowed Donnie to slip behind her computer. He quickly replayed the video and paused it. After a few deft taps he looked up at the others. “I saw movement in the corner of the screen, and I think I know what it is.”

“What?”

“This,” Donnie tapped the keyboard once more and the image he had paused magnified.

The three brothers started as a familiar metallic form was suddenly presented.

“Ah no! Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

Donnie sighed. “Sorry Raph but it is.”

“Mousers,” Leo uttered with a shake of his head. He had had his fill of those little terrors, enough to last him a lifetime.

April looked puzzled. “Mousers? What are mousers?”

“Do you remember when we went to retrieve your phone from the Purple Dragons?”

April nodded.

Leo continued. “Well, me and Raph spent half the night being chased by thousands of these things.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“En masse? Yeah, I’d say they were dangerous but pretty easy to destroy.”

“What are they for? I mean, who made these things?”

“They were built by Baxter Stockman,” Donnie cut in. “Designed so they could excavate into bank vaults.”

“So now he’s after Kraang technology?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time he’s managed to gain access to it,” Donnie stated dryly. 

“Well, I’d say our objective is pretty clear then. We gain access to this warehouse and prevent Stockman from laying his hands on any more Kraang tech.”

“How?”

“Quite simply we destroy the technology.”

“Destroy?”

“Yes Donnie, that’s the only way to prevent Stockman from reclaiming any more.”

“B-but-“

Leonardo huffed with exasperation. “What is it Donnie?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we could salva-“

“Ho oh no Donnie!” Leo was putting his foot down on this one. “The technodrome is at the bottom of the ocean and that’s where I would like it to stay. The less Kraang technology there is out there the better. Anything that’s left that could help facilitate them from their current predicament is a risk I am not willing to take.”

“But the things I could learn from-“

“Donnie!”

Donatello stammered into silence and bit his bottom lip. He looked like a kicked puppy as he stared back at his eldest brother. He was always hurt whenever Leo shut him down so abruptly.

Seeing that particular look, Leonardo held his smart brother’s wounded gaze and finally sighed, rolling his eyes back. “Fine,” he conceded. “We go to the warehouse, let Donnie salvage what he needs and then destroy the rest of the tech,” he threw Donnie a warning glare when he looked ready to object again. “That’s the compromise Donnie.”

Not wanting to push his luck Donatello nodded. “Okay Leo,” a few salvaged items were better than none at all.

“You want to join us on this one April?” Leo asked as he drew back.

April was silent for a moment. It was true that after her ordeal she wanted to eliminate as much Kraang technology that was left out there as she could. However her father was growing increasingly protective of her for obvious reasons.

“What do you say April?”

April could feel an involuntary smile quirk at the sides of her mouth at the sound of Donnie’s expectant voice. She knew that whilst she was with them there was no way they would allow any harm to befall her, especially Donnie.

“Definitely,” April answered with a confident nod.

“Great,” Leo looked back at his younger brother. “You think you could rig something up that could take out all the tech in one shot Donnie?”

It only took Donatello a second to reply. “No problem.”

“Good, you get that together and then we’ll head out.”

Donnie nodded, about to head back to his lab when April unexpectedly snagged his arm. “What is it April?”

“You might want to wash yourself off first.”

Donnie gazed back completely puzzled. With a smile the girl briefly brushed a gentle hand against his cheek (which made him catch his breath), and held it up for her friend to see.

At the sight of the sooty hand, Donatello's sense of pride deflated instantly. “Seriously?” He glared back at his brothers. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?” He said with an undertone of annoyance. “I must look utterly ridiculous!”

“That’s one word for it.”

Donnie glowered at Raph. “Why?”

“We were just waiting to see how long it take for you to notice,” Raph grinned.

“Thanks a lot Raphael.”

“Any time Donnie.”

Turning to leave, Donnie caught sight of Mikey. He raised his eye ridges as if to ask, ‘Well?’ It was sheepish looked he received in return and that look said it all. He hadn’t been playing along that time. He was in on the joke. Donnie just sighed and shook his head.


	3. The Detonator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ready for a bit of excitement? Your wish is granted! :) Enjoy dear readers.

To say that Donnie was having a field day would have been an absolute understatement. He was like a kid in a candy store who'd just been told he could have as much as he wanted for free. For those a little short on patience regarding Donatello's enthusiasm, eyes were rolled every time he made a new discovery and went into an automatic discourse in how much of a benefit it could be to all of them.

Donnie's rigged network of explosives however were practically set up. Each one of a dozen devices strategically placed via the creator's explicit instructions.

Leo was fixing one of the explosives to the side of a crate when he asked a question that he really should have asked a lot sooner. "Donnie, these bombs won't bring this whole building down will they?"

Don looked up quizzically almost as if he didn't understand the question. "The structural integrity of the building should remain intact," did Leo really think he'd not considered all the variables? He wouldn't knowingly put them all at risk and if there was no other option he would warn them all first.

Also listening in Mikey popped his head up from behind a nearby crate and looked at Donnie blankly.

Donatello sighed, rolling his eyes back. "No, the building will not blow up." With a brief glance around it seemed everyone was done. "Are we set?" He called out.

"I got one more bro!" Mikey returned, now a lot further back than he had been only moments before.

Donnie had almost forgotten how quick his little brother was. "That's great Mikey," he had time them for one last sweep to see if there were anymore goodies he could salvage before they blew the place, which left just one last thing to do. "April?"

April glanced back from the last device she had fixed to another crate. "Don't worry Donnie, I've just finished."

"Good, um, can um, can a have a quick word?"

"Now?" April looked puzzled. "Aren't we a little busy?"

Donatello swiftly fished something out of the bag hitched about his shoulder. "I'd- like to give you this. It's the detonator," Donnie unnecessarily explained, as April looked down at the grey and red box in her hands. "I-I thought you'd like to, you know, do the honors as it were."

The biggest smile spread across the red head's fair features. "Thank you Donnie!"

"You're welcome-"

April unexpectedly gave the surprised teen a quick hug before drawing back to get a better look at the detonator. Donnie's following blush was brief but noticeable. He could feel his brother's smirks as he rubbed the back of his head and awkwardly cleared his throat. "I-I was thinking you could get on the roof of the adjacent building and press the red button when I give the signal that we're all clear."

"That's great Donnie! Thank you so much for this," she squeezed his wrist, causing another hot flush to spread across his features. "I'll let you know when I'm in position."

Donatello smiled and watched as April left, surrounded by a subtle mist of happiness but frowned when Raph burst his blissful bubble all to soon.

"You know, most guys give their girlfriends flowers."

There was the briefest snickering as Donnie scowled. "How many times do I have to say it?! April is not-!"

"Hey Donnie!" Mikey's voice bleated somewhere from the back of the warehouse. "I wanted to blow up the Kraang stuff!" There was a distinct undertone of a whine as he stepped into Donnie's line of sight. "Can I blow up the next warehouse?"

Seeing Mikey's hangdog expression Donnie's features softened. He sighed as he relented, not seeing how perfectly timed his little brother's interruption was. "Sure Mikey. You can blow up the next one."

Michelangelo's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Awesome!" He crowed jubilantly before disappearing out of sight again.

Donnie caught Leo throwing him a meaningful look which said, 'are you serious?' He merely shrugged. It was the least he could do given his current circumstances but Leonardo didn't have to know that.

"So," Leo finally said. "Are we all done here?"

"I just wanted to make one last sweep in case I missed anything useful."

"Two minutes Donnie, then we're gone."

The resident genius tried not to look disappointed but nodded all the same. He knew Leo had been more than generous. Unfortunately just as Donatello dug into another crate Mikey's voice once more rang out across the building.

"Er guys? We're not alone in here!"

There was a sudden mechanical squeal, which was all too familiar. Donnie suppressed a groan. "Oh, are you kidding me?" He uttered as he pulled himself out of the box he was searching.

"You're gonna have to cut that scavenger hunt of yours short Don."

Donatello sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Sorry Donnie. Time to fall back and buy April some time to get to that roof," Leo drew his swords and Donnie pulled his staff alongside him.

Seconds later a chorus of mechanical screeches met the mutants ears and the mousers surged forward like a silver tide awash with beacons of red. On sight of this disturbing vision Donnie blinked and a sudden coldness streaked through him. He gripped his staff tightly, his mouth quickly growing dry. He'd seen this before. Hundreds of mousers surrounding him, intent on spilling his blood.

"I'll take the left, you take the right Donnie. Don! Donatello! Are you listening to me?!"

When Donnie was finally able to tear his gaze away he was as white as a sheet. Leonardo's expression instantly changed. "Don you okay?"

Before the purple banded turtle could come up with a response to his brother's concerned voice, the mousers were upon them.

Mikey leapt across the crates to join his brothers ahead of the metal flood, landing next to Raph as he stabbed his first mouser through the head with his sai.

"I guess Spaxman wasn't finished shopping," Mikey stated as he smacked another mouser away with a nunchuck.

"Huh, what was your first clue?"

A third mouser chose this moment to jump Donnie. He brandished his staff as the mini robot clamped down on the shaft and threatened to break it. Forced to focus on the immediate danger at hand Donnie swung his weapon around. "Oh no you don't!" He growled and slammed his staff against the nearest wall. There was a squeal followed by a satisfying CRUNCH! "Try that again!"

The next one duly obliged just as his back was turned. Leo's blades flashed out cutting the metal beast neatly in half. A brief glance over his shoulder confirmed his close call. "Th-thank's Leo," he stammered.

Leonardo gave a quick tilt of his head in acknowledgement. "Time to fall back guys!"

"What?! Already? You're kiddin' right?"

"Raph, we've got this place rigged to blow. It would make more sense to let Donnie's explosives do the job for us, don't you think?"

Raphael grumbled as he fell alongside his brothers. "Fine."

"Which way Leo?"

Leo glanced across at Mikey and then cast his keen eyes upwards. "The windows, straight to the roof. C'mon!"

The others instantly followed Leo's lead but Donatello hesitated as everyone took to the rafters. The spell he was under only moments before returned. The mouser on April's computer screen should have been the first clue but at the time he'd dismissed it. Now? It was like a vision from his nightmare come to life. Donnie froze up and clenched his staff to his plastron. What the hell was going on?! Panic overrode his common sense as he just stared at the robotic wave that just kept on coming. He felt himself start to shake.

"Donnie! What the hell are you playing at you geek?!"

Raph's harsh but clearly concerned tone snapped Donatello out of his frightened trance. Looking up he leapt for the crates, mousers snapping at his heels and grabbed the hand that reached out for him.

"What was up with that Donnie?" Raphael demanded. "Did you want to end up as mouser chow?"

Donatello clung to metal crossbeam unaware of how bad his tremble had become. He couldn't take his sights off the machines below. Not a single word Raph uttered registered.

"Donnie? Donnie!" The annoyance in Raph's voice soon disappeared when he realized his brainiac brother wasn't deliberately ignoring him. He was transfixed by the hoard of destruction down below with a deep dread swimming behind his chestnut red orbs.

Raph seized his younger sibling's shoulders, worry tainting his features. "Donnie! Back in the room Donnie!"

Donatello blinked as if he suddenly remembered where he was. Startled he stared right back with wide frightened eyes.

"Don are you alright?"

Donnie hesitated. "I-I-"

"Dudes! Leo said we need to get out of here like yesterday!"

Raph glanced up, acknowledging Mikey's shout. "C'mon Donnie, lets get you outtah here," he pointed the way and allowed his younger brother to climb out the window first.

Donnie clambered onto the roof helped by Mikey who pulled him up the rest of the way. Raphael closely followed.

"You okay bro?" Mikey uttered as he stepped back. "You kinda looked spaced out back there."

"I'm fine Mikey," Donnie said levelly. The coolness of the night air had temporarily cleared his senses.

"You sure?" Raph stood alongside him. "B'cuz you really didn't seem yourself back there."

"I'm okay Raph. I'm okay now," though his elder brother seemed unconvinced.

"You looked as if you'd seen a ghost back there Donnie."

Dark blue eyes held Donatello with a penetrating stare that demanded he not look away. Out of the corner of his eye he noted Mikey was looking worriedly between him and Leo. He seemed ready to blurt something out, if only to keep the peace between the pair of them.

"Donnie's been hav-"

Donnie glared across at Michelangelo who stammered into immediate silence. He cast his pale blue eyes down apologetically.

Leo gazed back at Donnie, the intensity in his glare now gone. "If there is something wrong Donnie you need to tell us," the authority in his tone had disappeared. He was speaking to him as a brother, not as his leader.

Even though he still did not understand what any of his nightmares meant, he could read the concern in his brother's words. He only wanted to help. Donnie considered it and the resolve bloomed in his chest. "I-," he never got a chance to finish.

A familiar scream ripped through the night's stillness and Donnie started. "April?" He spun round catching sight of what his brothers were already staring at on the adjacent roof. April was trying to fend off a mouser when her tessen flew out of her hand as it jumped her. The weapon tumbled into the dark alleyway below leaving her defenceless. She took another step back; her balance compromised and gravity snatched up reaching claws and pulled the red head down. "NO!"

This all seemed to happen in slow motion as poor Donnie watched. Fear grasped at his chest but it only took the teen a second to decide what to do. There was no time for explanations, there was a small risk but he had no other choice. He gripped his staff and the naginata blade snapped out. He hitched the weapon over his shoulder and readied himself to throw it.

A strong hand suddenly restrained him and an unexpected anger flared violently within him. "Donnie no! You'll hit April!"

Donnie tore aware from Raphael's hold with a growl. "No, I, WON'T!" The protesting cries echoed behind him but he ignored them. He hurled the staff and just prayed that where his weapon landed, the blade would hold true for just long enough.


	4. BOOM!

Chapter 4 BOOM!

Only a few minutes before April had been on the street below about to pull herself up the fire escape of the neighboring building. That was when she heard the echoes of urgency rise from the guys inside accompanied by the curious electronic metal clanging. The red head paused; frowning curiously as her fingers grew numb on the metal rungs gripped beneath her hands. April didn't have to wait long as several errant mousers ripped their way through the warehouse's door.

Their red eye of light flashed menacingly in the shadows of the alleyway and April gasped as the mini mechanical monsters caught sight of her. With an unnerving screech they charged her. April's initial alarm was replaced by stubborn determination as she dropped back down to the street. She pulled her tessen out ready and swiped it across the first mouser to jump at her. There was an abrupt clatter, as the machine lay inert in two pieces beside her.

Leo had been right, she thought with a sly grin. These creatures were pretty easy to destroy. However since there was only a few of them, wouldn't it make sense to leave one standing and attach a tracker to one of them and find out where they came from?

The second mouser came into attack and April deftly deflected it. It collided with a wall and lay still. The last one gave an ear splitting screech and lunged at her. The girl leapt back and pulled something from her pocket, throwing it at the underside of the robot. There was an unmistakable 'Tap!' as the magnetic tracker found its target.

April smiled; she'd have to tell Donnie later that she had raided his lab without his knowledge. Sooner or later he would find out one of his self made devices was missing. Sooner would be more likely. The redhead kicked the mouser back and snagged a hold of the fire escape. She was pretty confident that the mouser couldn't climb. The critter recovered and snapped up at April's retreating ankle.

"Too slow!" She shouted back.

April proceeded to climb up the ladder, reached the first platform and carried on up the second, the third, the fourth, and the fifth. She'd reached the sixth level when she heard it.

'Clang! Tap, tap, tap!'  
'Clang! Tap, tap, tap!'

April hazarded a glance down and her eyes widened in surprise. "You've got to be kidding!" Donnie had obviously neglected to say that the damn monsters could climb! Weren't they excavators? What the heck was this one doing climbing ladders for goodness sake?!

April hastened her ascent and reached the roof well ahead of her little attacker.

'Clang! Tap, tap, tap!'  
'Clang! Tap, tap, tap!'

April backed away as the mouser finally gained the upper level. It caught sight of her and with an electrical squeal charged. The girl frowned. So, the little terrors could climb? Well, she very much doubted they could fly. "C'mon then!"

April's plan was a simple one, lure the mouser to the edge of the roof and kick it into oblivion. However like most well laid plans, this one didn't exactly pan out as April envisioned. The mouser got closer more quickly than she had anticipated which forced her to improvise. She pulled her tessen once more but before she could use it the mouser pounced.

The action took April off guard and she shrieked as the metal monstrosity nearly snagged her arm. It was an action she immediately cursed herself for. The metal fan flew out of her hand and she staggered ungainly backwards.

"Stay back you metal freak!"

A second later April knew she was in serious trouble. Her heels tapped the parapet wall and she felt herself tipping back. In that moment April knew she was going to fall and as the mouser stalked closer she did. Gravity seized her weight and reminded her what the law of physics was all about.

"NO!"

Donatello's frightened yell seared through the night like a tangible presence, so much so that April imagined she could've grabbed a hold of it. Her heart raced and her thoughts spun wildly. She tried not to think about how high up she was, how many levels of the fire escape she had scaled. It didn't matter now. There was just a yawning nothingness above, no ledge or jutting protrusion presented itself to her. April's empty hands grasped at nothing but thin air. This was it. All her adventures come to an abrupt end due to a silly blunder.

An abrupt 'whoosh!' and a sudden metallic scraping sound sliced through her panicked thoughts and in the blink of an eye she saw Donatello's naginata stuck fast in the brickwork above. With a gasp April grabbed at it which stopped her fall but instantly jolted down due to her velocity. She released a startled cry and stared fearfully at the blade as it began to slide out of the wall.

"No," the girl whimpered. "Please don't," but fate was playing a cruel game with her. The blade slipped out further and further until… There was a sharp 'ping!' and the naginata tore away from its mooring. "NO!"

This was it...

Only, it wasn't. Her terrified scream cut itself short as a familiar embrace stopped her fall. Instinctively she wrapped her arms about her rescuer's neck, burying her face in his strong shoulder and waited for them to reach solid ground.

The controlled fall came to a skilled stop as the mutant turtle landed. That had been a close call but then, when hadn't it been a close call? Whenever she got into trouble whom was the one always there to save her?

April heard the unmistakable sound of the tumbling naginata as it spun down to greet them. With a yelp the red head pressed her head back down and felt more than saw Donnie's hand snap out to catch it before it struck them. Finally peering up she realized he had caught it without even looking. His head was bowed and his eyes were fast shut. In one fluid movement he slammed the staff's base on the ground and the naginata blade snapped back into its housing.

April waited for Donnie to give one of his characteristic comments that he nearly always gave whenever he rescued her or asked her if she was all right. A silent minute passed and Donatello didn't speak. He didn't even move. The arm that remained around her if anything got tighter, almost as if he was convinced that she still wasn't safe.

Worriedly April let her hands slip to his plastron as he refused to let her go. "Donnie?" It was only then that she noticed the slight tremor in his breathing, almost as if he were recovering from some terrible ordeal. April tried again, more softly this time and waited for her good friend to answer. "Donnie, you can let me go now. I'm safe."

April's gentle words glided so smoothly over him that Donnie caught his breath and drew her even closer. She was okay. She was well. She was safe. She was right there in his protective embrace but still the young turtle couldn't bring himself to let go. As long as he kept April close, no harm was ever going to befall her. He knew that he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

"Donnie? What's wrong?"

April's anxious words finally drew Donnie from his worried reverie. He summoned a trembling breath and finally managed to speak. "April? You do know that I will always be there to catch you when you fall, don't you?"

He sensed her gentle smile, and her voice, that voice that always lifted his spirits whenever he heard it lilted up to him like a song. "Donnie, you know I do and if you're not I know your brothers will be."

Donnie shook his head as the girl he cared so much for, misunderstood his words. "No, that's-that's not what I meant," he couldn't hide the taint of frustration that sounded at the back of his voice as he finally opened his eyes.

He could tell that April was confused as she looked up into his vivid brown gaze. "What-," she hesitated. Her expression suddenly seemed so unsure. The look alone made Donnie's already pounding heart flutter faster in his breast. "What do you mean Donnie?"

A feeling that Donnie had long tried to deny swelled within him and for a moment the sudden realization both startled and scared him at the same time. It shouldn't of been that much of a shock. He'd been smitten by April from the very first time he had laid eyes on her. He still remembered how the night breeze had caught the fiery blaze of her hair as she walked alongside her father on the street below, the glint of her mirror blue eyes that seemed to shine in the moonlight. The very memory still caused his heart to skip a proverbial beat.

Donnie swallowed awkwardly as the opportunity that had presented itself slapped him sharply around the face demanding him to seize the moment before it was snatched away from his reaching fingers. 'Do it!' The voice in his head screamed. 'Do it now you fool!' Those wide blue eyes gazed searchingly up at him and the tension pinched painfully in his chest. It was now or never…

"I mean-"

"Donnie! Awesome save dude!"

The pain clenched in his breast and Donatello's head fell against his staff in bitter disappointment and pure exasperation. The moment had gone. He was surprised at the mournful hitch that tugged at his throat as he shook his head at Michelangelo's unfortunate timing. "Great," he grumbled under his breath as the rest of his brothers joined them. "Just great."

"You okay April?"

"I'm fine Leo," the girl nodded.

"That's some grip you got on your girl Casanova."

Donnie's arm finally slipped from April's shoulders, albeit reluctantly. "Shut up Raph," he said more bitterly than he intended it to sound. He could feel his brother's ire rise at his words and was grateful for Leo's intervention as he stretched out a restraining hand for his hot headed brother's shoulder.

"April, do you still have the detonator?"

"Oh!" The redhead immediately pulled it from her pocket. "Yep."

"Donnie, are we a safe enough distance away?"

The young scientist nodded. "I've designed it as an internal explosion. There won't be any debris," he uttered. "But I suggest we get further down the alleyway before April activates the detonator."

The group hurried further along the street, sheltering themselves around the corner of the building that April had taken her tumble from.

"Do it April."

Donnie watched as April duly armed the explosives and glanced at him as if waiting for his permission to press the red button. The expectant expression on her face caused a small smile of his own to spread across his features. He gave an almost imperceptible nod and the girl jabbed the button.

Donnie's devices went off in swift succession, each blast sounding more devastating than the last. As the final explosion rent the air, the warehouse's windows instantly shattered, spewing a multitude of sharp shards into the street.

"GET DOWN!"

Leonardo's yell was barely heard over the music of splintering glass. Everyone ducked and covered, Donnie instinctively pulling April against him to shield her from the lethal shower that smashed against his shell.

"Donnie!" Leo yelled angrily. "You said there would be no debris!"

"The Mousers were not part of the equation Leo!" Donnie shouted back equally mad at himself for miscalculating and Leo for pointing it out.

As silence descended, the gang slowly stood up, a shifting of glass tinkling sweetly as they slid off their respective targets' carapaces.

Raph shook his head, his ears still obviously ringing from being so close to the explosion. "Wow, you really know how to put on a show Donnie."

Donnie never heard his brother. His entire focus was on only one person. "April, are you okay?"

"I'm good Donnie, thank you," was the genuine reply, followed by a gasp of shock. "Donnie! You're bleeding!"

"What?" The mutant raised a hand to his face, where his fingers slipped across something wet and warm. When he glanced down, he suppressed a strangled gasp. The horrible scene once more played through his mind and Donnie bit down on his bottom lip. Blood. There had been so much blood.

"Donnie? Donnie are you all right?"

The teen found that he couldn't answer and just continued to stare fearfully at his bloodstained fingers.

Ten stories above the lone mouser appeared to stare down on the group, perched atop the parapet's ledge like some grotesque metallic parrot. Had Donnie not been distracted by the flashbacks of his nightmare, he would have discovered that the mousers he and his brothers destroyed had more than a chemical sensor built into their shining metal skulls. Hidden away in that soulless red eye was a micro surveillance camera with a live feed that recorded every action he and his siblings made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank all the people who have taken the time to read my story thus far. :)


	5. Mikey's Observation

Chapter 5 Mikey's Observation

There was a long goodbye at April's home. She refused to let Donnie leave until she had patched up and treated the wound on his cheek. Usually Mikey's tallest brother would have lapped up this extra attention but not that night. He was unusually quiet and somewhat unresponsive to April's actions. He had nodded now and then but no more than that which was strange.

The brothers soon returned to their own home but despite a successful mission all was far from well when the turtles entered their lair. Michelangelo watched with a mounting sense of anxiety as the very last of their number likely to start a fight did just that. It was Donnie though that Mikey was really worried about though. He'd been acting strangely since those mousers had ambushed them in the warehouse. The look that had been on his face when he stared at the blood on his fingers had been practically identical to the look he'd worn after Mikey had woken him up from that nightmare from the other night.

He'd only tried to blurt out Donnie's secret because he wanted to help. There was little he could do at the present time though. He swapped looks with Raph who also seemed surprised at the current turn of events.

"I trust your judgement Donnie! When you say something is safe, I believe you!"

"Stop it Leo! I'm not in the mood for this right now!"

"Explain to me how you can fail to consider an extra variable to a plan!?"

"Hey! Blowing up the mousers with the Krangg stuff was your brilliant idea!"

"It's called improvisation Donnie, usually you can handle that!"

"Well, I'm sorry Leo but if you hadn't noticed I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind back there!"

Mikey's eye ridges arched as he watched Leo pounce on Donnie's unwitting slip up.

"Yeah, care to explain why Donnie?"

He watched as Donnie stammered into silence as he realised his mistake. Was he going to tell them about the horrible dream he'd been suffering from? He'd almost had on that rooftop before April fell. Looking at Donnie now though it was clear that he had changed his mind. Without a word Mikey watched as Donatello spun on his heel and stalked off in the direction of his lab. The argument was officially over.

Michelangelo's shoulders sagged. He had truly hoped his clever brother would say something. They were here for him, no matter what. They were a team. They were brothers. They were family. They were here to help in anyway that they could.

A clang of a heavy door was a sure sign that Donnie had shut himself off, again. Mikey couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. As his mind wandered he realised that he was being spoken to.

"You know something, don't you Mikey?"

Mikey glanced back, catching Leonardo with his arms folded firmly over his plastron. "Can you tell us what Donnie's hiding?"

The youth took a breath and immediately stopped himself, remembering the look Donnie had thrown him on that rooftop only a couple of hours before. He shook his head. He had made a promise and he wasn't about to break it just like that. "Nuh uh, sorry Leo. I promised Donnie I wouldn't say a word, so I won't."

Mikey winced at Leonardo's huff of exasperation but thankfully he didn't push the matter and the youth mentally sighed with relief. The one thing that Michelangelo truly disliked was the verbal confrontations that often sprung up between him and his brothers. When one cropped up Mikey was usually the first to try and break it up, not that he was really successful but he did try. This occasion though, well it felt different and deep down he knew he had to steer clear of it. Michelangelo turned away to leave Leo glaring at the empty space he left.

Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow Donnie will have changed his mind. Maybe tomorrow he would be able to help.

XXXX

Another night passed uneventfully and morning arrived with more than a stilted silence. Donatello pointedly refused to speak to any of his brothers. It was a stubborn quiet he carried into the dojo for their daily training session and still he didn't speak. Even when questioned by Master Splinter who had instantly sensed a shift of balance in the airs around the young mutant, couldn't rouse more than a clipped, "No sensei," from the boy.

When training was over, Donnie avoided all eye contact and marched straight to his lab where the door shut with a decisive 'clang!' Mikey had stared at the door for the longest time, almost as if he was willing Donnie to come back out. It didn't happen. Hours passed and Mikey tried to waste time on the pinball machine but his heart wasn't in it.

Not until his stomach growled at the smell of the stack of pizzas that Raphael brought into the lair, did he realise how hungry he was. He pounced on the pizza with an annoyed, "hey! Watch it you dork!" echoing through one ear and straight out the other.

Mikey had devoured several slices before his head bobbed over the lid of his box. He scanned the room and raised his eye ridges when he discovered Donnie still hadn't joined them. Normally Mikey would have scoffed as much as he could before the smell of pizza drew Donnie away from whatever project he was working on at the time. Not this time though, but surely he had to be hungry? As far as Mikey knew, he hadn't eaten all day.

Mikey gobbled down another slice, reached for another and stopped. Unusually for him he suddenly couldn't take another bite. Well, that was just plain weird. His pale blue eyes drifted in the direction of Donnie's lab and he felt a sudden pang in his chest. Ah, that was the reason…

Mikey cast a cautious gaze across at Raphael and Leonardo who were (unsurprisingly) involved in another argument regarding the latest episode of Space Heroes that was droning on in the background. Whilst their attention was otherwise engaged, Mikey slipped away and found himself standing outside the heavy door of Donnie's lab. Stealing himself, holding the pizza box in one hand, he tapped on the metal barrier as loud as he dared.

"Donnie? Pizza delivery bro!" He called quietly.

There was no answer. Mikey nipped his bottom lip and tentatively knocked a bit louder. "Dude! You okay in there?"

Still there was nothing. He pondered for a solid minute, shuffling his feet and finally he pushed on the door at a loss of what else to try. He didn't expect it to open but the gentle shove did the trick. The lab door shifted forward and cautious Mikey peered about the frame. "Donnie?"

Mikey spotted Donnie slumbering peacefully at his workbench, his head rested against folded arms. The poor guy must have refused to sleep the night before and to be honest remembering that harrowed look he had been wearing throughout the events of yesterday, Mikey couldn't blame him. Donnie didn't dare sleep.

Unwilling to wake his brother from what looked like some much-needed rest, Michelangelo stepped back ready to pull the door closed when something curious happened. Donatello began to talk in his sleep.

Mikey paused, feeling the chill of the door's rivets beneath his hands. It sounded like feverish, incoherent mumbling but the more he listened the more words he started to recognise. It only took a moment for him to realise. "It's the nightmare," he whispered.

Michelangelo's first instinct was to wake his brother up. He slipped back into the lab, leaning against the door so that it closed with a soft click, but then a small voice sounded at the back of his mind. 'Don't you want to help Donatello? Listen. Listen to the dream he's murmuring. He wasn't going to tell you, was he?'

Consternation furrowed Mikey's young brow and he stared blindly down at the pizza box he still held. More than anything he wanted to help and if listening in on the dream was the only way he could, he would do it. With a nervous swallow he approached Donnie's workbench and set the pizza box down and gazing over, chin resting on his arms he watched his brother and desperately tried to decipher what precisely was going on in Donnie's head.

" - can't -."  
"How - possibly choose."  
" - them - now!"  
"Damn you!"  
"I can't!"  
"No! – god NO!"

What followed those lines was a disjointed string of sobs. Mikey's eyes welled up and he pressed his face into his arms. He shouldn't be listening to this. A mournful moan then issued up his brother's throat where it abruptly hitched. Mikey's head snapped back up. He wasn't entirely certain but it sounded as if Donnie was about to scream. For a split second Michelangelo cast a glance over his shoulder. He still had a secret to keep, if Donnie screamed everyone would come running. Filled with urgency and a terrible sense of guilt, Mikey seized his distressed brother's shoulders.

"Donnie! Donnie man, wake up!" He hushed in a loud whisper.

Donatello woke with a hiccup of a broken sob in the back of his throat. "M-Mikey?"

Mikey bit heavily down on his bottom lip unable to swallow back the anguish at how distraught Donnie looked. "I'm sorry Donnie! I-I'm so sorry!" He blurted out before he could stop himself. Donnie's immediate confusion only deepened Mikey's upset. "I didn't mean to listen in Donnie, I-I just wanted to help!"

"I-I was talking in my sleep?"

Michelangelo nodded vigorously. "I mean I didn't hear everything. It-it was like you faded in and out and then y-you got upset like-like scary upset an-and then I thought you were gonna scream but-but I couldn't let you scream b'cuz the others would hear and I couldn't let that happen b'cuz I made a promise Donnie and I won't tell, I-I would never tell, unless you said it was okay, in-in which case I-"

A shivering olive green hand was placed atop Mikey's hands, which had mashed his pizza box flat in his frantic explanations for his actions. He glanced up from mid flow and his eyes locked with his brother's.

"Slow down Mikey, it-it's okay," the look upon his face reflected the anguished quality of his soft voice.

The guilt rose once more and Michelangelo couldn't hold that conflicted, anxious gaze any longer. "I should have woken you up sooner Donnie, I-I'm sorry."

Mikey felt Donnie's fingers squeeze his clenched fists. "I'm just glad you woke me up Mikey. I-I couldn't take much more of it," he raised both hands to his face and shuddered a sigh set thick with emotion.

Mikey regarded Donnie thoughtfully and finally reached across to grip his shoulder. "Donnie, this is the fourth time man and this nightmare it-it sounds horrible. I-I know you don't want to dude but I really think you need to tell Master Splinter," he watched Donatello intensely as he allowed him to absorb what he'd just said. A full minute passed. "Did you hear me bro? What do you say?"

Hands slipped from Donatello's face and he sighed once more, looking to the side. "May-maybe you're right Mikey. I'll go talk to sensei now-," he stood to do just that when his T-phone suddenly went off.

Frustrated Mikey glowered at the phone as Donnie answered it.

"Hey April."

'Well, that figures,' Mikey thought with a roll of his eyes. Goodness only knew how long this conversation could last.

"Wait, wait April, slow down. What do you mean you borrowed one of my magnetic trackers? You, you what?! Why would you do that? You followed it? Well, where are you now?"

Mikey stared across at Donnie as whatever April was saying on the other side of the phone caused his brother's expression descend from annoyance, to alarm to pure blind panic.

"April? April I can't hear you! Say that again- April? No April! April don't!"

Mikey watched as Donnie stared in horrified disbelief at his T-phone, gripped in both hands. "Donnie, what's wrong? What's happened dude?"

"April, she- she's in danger," he uttered hoarsely. "She tracked the mousers to a warehouse an-and sh-she's in over her head," he then muttered as he feverishly began pushing buttons on his T-phone.

Mikey frowned curiously. "So what are you doing now?"

"April told her T-phone t-to-," he hesitated as he obviously tried to swallow back the fear that had risen in his throat. "To self-destruct, I'm trying to find its last known co-ordinates."

Mikey stood on tiptoes to try and see but rocked back on his heels when he realised there was no point. What did he know about phone tracking? There was then a sudden 'Beep!' and Donnie cried out making him jump.

"I got her!" Without a word of explanation Donatello bolted out of his lab.

Michelangelo glanced back as he heard Donnie tell the others what had just happened. He dearly hoped April was okay. They now had a mission to save her from the sounds of what Leo was currently making.

Mikey grabbed the demolished pizza box and made to join his brothers when something made him stop. Scattered over Donnie's workbench were a multitude of small shining objects. Despite the urgency of the situation, Mikey felt a smile slip across his mouth. He extended his arm and gently traced his leaf green digits over several of the mini devices. His smile widened. "I wonder," he murmured, his fingers lingering as his brothers shouted his name from the other room. "I wonder…"


	6. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well the chapter's title says it all really. ☺

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onward my friends! Stick with me and we'll get through this, I promise! :D Thank you to all my wonderful readers and please do enjoy this next chapter. :)

Donnie desperately tried to keep his head when they found April's T-phone abandoned on the roof of a warehouse on the eastern outskirts of the city. His nerves were still rattled by his recurrent nightmare; images that stained his thoughts with horrible notions that refused to let his mind rest and let the more logical Donnie take control. His heart was in his mouth as his eyes wildly darted over the rooftop looking something, anything that would lend a clue to April's whereabouts but his pounding, fear filled heart finally got the better of him.

"April! APRIL WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Jeez Donnie! Where's your head at man?!" Raph snapped. "Let everyone know we're here!"

"Keep it down!"

"Bit late for that now," Raph muttered as an ominous squeal sounded below them.

"Dudes, what- what was that sound?"

Donnie stared at his feet, feeling the faint tremor coming from beneath him. "Oh sewer apples," he uttered, glancing across at Leo who was already way ahead of him.

"MOVE!"

Though the order came a second to late. There was a sharp jolt and the four brothers fell through the roof to a chorus of crumbling concrete.

"Is everyone all right?"

"Next stupid question."

A hand came down and grabbing it Donnie pulled himself free of the rubble. "Thanks Mikey."

"Where are we now?"

A quick glance around confirmed it. "Store room."

"At least we're inside."

"And everyone knows we're here."

"Quiet down!" Leo hushed. "We don't need to advertise ourselves anymore than we already have."

"You're kiddin' right? I don't think being quiet is gonna really help us now," was Raph's dry comment. "Stealth has just gone right out the freaking window."

Leo scowled but his eyes then caught something across the room. "That door has a security panel," the next words were carefully chosen. "Donnie, think you can crack it?"

"Without zapping yaself this time?"

Donnie tried to ignore Raph's remark as he crouched in front of the panel, not catching the disapproving look that Leo threw at Raphael. Luckily the security panel was a very simple configuration to Donnie and it didn't take more than a few tweaks to have the door beep and click open as the locks disengaged.

"Good work Donnie," Donatello gave a slight smile as Leo patted his shoulder, before leading them cautiously into the chamber beyond.

The large seemingly empty space was bathed in an eerie red glow. Although it was hard to tell in the light, the walls seemed to be composed of some sort of metal alloy. Donnie strayed to one of them and smoothed his hand down the surface, which proved his thoughts to be correct. A sudden chill streaked down his spine as he cast his brown gaze about them. A nasty knot suddenly formed in his breast. There was something terribly familiar about that room, almost as if he had been there before. He shook the unnerving thought away, pulling his weapon when Leo drew his swords.

"Man, is there a light switch in here?"

"Yeah, that's just what we need Mikey. Let's switch a light on and see how many enemies are waiting in the rafters for us!"

"Sounds like a good idea to me," which was followed by the inevitable yelp brought on by Raph's hand and the back of Michelangelo's head.

"Sshhh! For goodness sake!"

In spite of the situation, Donnie felt a chuckle bubble at the back of his throat. For a moment, the everyday antics of his brothers quelled his uneasiness and pulled the tension away from the tightness that had curled in his chest. He didn't know what he would do without them. They always distracted him whenever his thoughts got caught in a loop. It might annoy him at the time but subconsciously it was just what the doctor ordered. A break from his unrelenting mind.

A slight smile traced his mouth but before he could follow this reassuring train of thought any further a bright dot of light caught his eye. Just ahead of them he saw a beam of light that was suddenly broken as Leonardo's unsuspecting foot cut through it.

"Leo watch out!" Donatello acted out of pure instinct and lunged forward, shoving Leo clear of the space as an ominous creak filled their ears.

Donnie never saw what hit him. Something heavy connected with his shoulder, the force of which sent him sailing into the metallic walls. There was a sudden blinding pain that exploded in his skull as his head smacked with surprising force against a supporting steel girder that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His body crumpled into a heap on the floor as his brothers' cries of alarm sounded all about him.

"Donnie! Raph cut that damn thing down before it takes up all out!"

There was a sharp 'Pting!' and a tremendous crash that vibrated through the floor as whatever hit him slammed into the ground. Then there were hands all reaching down to haul him up but his legs wouldn't co-operate. All he could see were dazzling white stars and the pain, the pain that bit deep into the bone and abruptly sent his world spinning.

"We got ya Donnie, hang in there buddy," he felt Raphael's presence alongside him as the floor was no longer beneath his fingers. "Let's get the hell outtah here!"

They were moving but the lights were quickly fading for Donnie. His head, his head hurt so much. It began to sag, which prompted a rough jerk from Raph's arm to try and keep him focused. "Stay with us Donnie! C'mon man!"

As dearly as Donnie wanted to stay alert he was quickly succumbing to his injury. Everything was fading to black then his brothers sounded another vocal alarm.

"Dudes, wha-what's that sound? It-it's like sorta hissing?"

"Gas?"

Sniff.

"It's poisonous gas!"

"What?! Great!"

"RUN!"

Donnie then felt the floor slam into him as his strongest brother was no longer able to support him. Cries, coughs, chokes and then silence. Shadows descended and Donnie slipped into a black cloying nothingness.

XXXX

The first thing Donatello felt was the coldness of the metal flooring beneath him. He wrenched his eyes open, which felt as if they had been glued shut. That was when he saw them. Waiting in quiet anticipation was a host of glittering red eyes, all of them staring straight at him only several feet from his prostrate form.

A strangled gasp of horror escaped his throat as the first scene of his nightmare stared straight back at him. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real! It just couldn't! But the damp warmth on his scabbed cheek and the thrumming pain that ran laps around his throbbing skull managed to convince him that what was happening was real.

Wakefulness finally restored to their target, the mousers began to advance.

"Guys! Where are you?!" Donnie yelled fearfully but there were gone. He was alone, surrounded by a thousand hungry metal monsters. Alone.

It only took a split second for Donnie to make a decision. Fine. This was actually happening. So be it. He couldn't change that but he wasn't about to let these damn mousers tear him to shreds. His staff lay just before him. He grabbed it with a look of grim determination etched across his face and summoned the naginata blade. The sharp edge gleamed coldly in the now artificial white light and a growl pitted in the base of Donatello's throat.

"All right," he hissed at the murderous multitude. "Let's get this over with."


	7. The Impossible Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid that it's time for some blood and violence. It had to happen. :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay dear readers I feel compelled to put a little warning in right here. This was a chapter I found hard to write and just as hard to type up and edit. So, take a deep breath, fasten your seat belt and prepare yourself for a bumpy ride, the journey is about to begin. You've come this far, do you trust me to take you the rest of the way? You wanted to know what 'The Choice' was? Didn't you? Stick with me because I do know what I'm doing. :)

Chapter 7 _'The Impossible Choice'_

It was a somewhat tattered and torn Donatello that dived through the closing door that slammed down behind him causing the mousers to plough into it, clawing and screeching their protest at the unwelcome barrier. Numerous scratches traced his limbs where the mousers had broken through his defences. The bandages wrapped about his hands, wrists and ankles now hung ripped, dotted with blossoms of deep red. He crouched on the floor panting, facing the closed door as he listened to the mechanical army screech and pound at the thick metal. His muscles trembled from his exertions and he pushed his hand up across his sweaty brow.

"Greetings Donatello. I have been waiting for you."

Donnie froze. No. Please god no. He knew that voice. Usually it caused him to roll his eyes in exasperation, but now? It was a voice he had grown to fear. A voice he had grown to dread. The maniacal chuckle flushed his body with a rush of nervous adrenaline and his exhausted pants became a series of hyperventilating gasps.

"I have been watching you turtles, watching you very, very carefully."

Donnie stiffened at the mocking quality of the tone.

"I watched you long enough to discover something interesting about you," an agonising pause followed. Donnie trembled. "I chose you Donatello to play this Game of Doom. I designed it just for you," another idiotic chuckle sounded. "Would you like to see?"

Donnie's heart seemed to pound in his ears. A frightened choke was his only response.

"Not even the slightest bit curious?"

He had to turn around. He didn't want to but he had to. His body rigid, unwilling to co-operate with his decision, Donnie stood and slowly turned. His eyes rolled up and greeted the high ceiling of the metal chamber. The room was bare save for a large screen on the on the back wall and a pair of large glass cylinders suspended from above and the cylinders, those prisons were occupied. Donatello felt his legs give way and he fell back, the bottom of his shell denting the floor as he scrambled backwards. His staff clattered hollowly at his side and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth as his eyes widened in disbelief.

"No," he uttered. "Please, please say I'm dreaming." Standing in the cylinders, staring at him desperately was April and his brothers. Leo, Raph and Mikey were in the right hand side one. April was the on left. They started banging their fists on the curved walls of their prisons shouting Donnie's name, voices muffled by the thick glass.

"Let me enlighten you with the rules, they're quite simple really."

Donnie's blood suddenly felt like ice in his veins. 'No, please don't let this happen.' But it was happening. This, right there, right now was his nightmare, made flesh.

"All you have to do, is make a choice."

"No," Donnie shook his head.

"Yes, and the choice is do you save your brothers or-," there was a pointed silence. "Your girlfriend."

Donnie's frightened eyes flicked between the tubes and felt himself bite down on one of his knuckles.

"There is of course a catch. There's a simple release mechanism at the bottom of each of the containers. However if you spring one, you set off the booby trap in the other, so choose carefully because you will only get one chance."

Donatello shook his head. "Stockman, I-I don't want to play this game."

"Like it or not you're playing it turtle!" The mad scientist snapped. "So, because I'm feeling generous I'll give you a full minute to decide who you want to save."

The screen on the far wall blinked into life and the countdown in great red digital numbers began.

"How can you do this to me!?" Donnie suddenly yelled, his fear temporarily giving way to anger. "You have a sick mind Stockman!"

Baxter Stockman's voice crackled over the unseen speakers, he was undoubtedly enjoying every second of Donatello's initial terror. "Oh, did I mention if you fail to make a decision the traps trigger themselves when the clock reaches zero. The results will be twice as messy!"

By now Donnie heard Raphael yelling obscenities through the glass at the unseen Stockman. He couldn't think straight; his terrified thoughts swam in meaningless circles as he stared at the clock steadily ticking down, and dooming his loved ones to whatever fate he decided. Their frantic cries to get his attention became a foreign language to him. He didn't even recognise his own name as it was bellowed through the glass at him.

00:50

'This can't be happening!' He thought feverishly. 'I can't choose between them, I can't! Mikey please, wake me up!'

00:45

The tension that had settled in Donnie's chest squeezed harder and harder, forcing him to gasp down great gulps of air to stop himself passing out. What could he do? What could he do? He finally cast his eyes up, not understanding anything that his brothers or April shouted at him. Donnie clamped hands over his head, trying to summon his more logical side to come to his aid, begging him to come up with an idea to free them all without anyone coming to any harm.

"What's the matter turtle? Too hard to decide?"

00:38

He couldn't do it. Donnie shivered. The words, the exact words from his dream then tumbled from his mouth without a thought. A terrifying sense of déjà vu.

"How can I?!"

"It's easy. One or two?"

00:25

"I can't!"

"You must, otherwise you know what happens."

"Free them now!"

"The clock is still ticking."

00:20

"Damn you!"

"Choose turtle."

"How, can I possibly choose!?"

"Choose!"

00:12

"I can't! I-I just can't!"

"Look at the clock."

00:05

Donnie's mouth grew dry. A great pain twisted mercilessly in his chest as the last vital seconds of life finally reached its end. It had happened again. He had let the time trickle away whilst he argued with Stockman, shouted his indecision and hopelessly fumbled for a solution that was never going to come.

00:00

"Time's up."

The horrifying sound of spinning blades whirled into life and the colour drained from Donnie's face as a cry of mortal terror escaped from his throat.

"No! Oh please god NO!"

Within the cylinders spinning blades descended with frightening speed. They possessed only one purpose; to destroy the life of the beings trapped beneath them. Stockman's demented laugh dominated the background, as cries of fear became screams of agony. The blades not only slashed through bodies, flesh, muscle, sinew and bone but also tore the lives of their victims asunder.

"NOOO!" In a blur of panic Donnie snatched up his staff and threw it at the first cylinder he saw. Only as the occupant's body fell did the youngster realise whose prison he had opened.

The young ninja lunged forward and April fell into his arms. Bright crimson smeared across his plastron, transferred from the once sunny yellow sports tee shirt that April habitually wore. "April?" He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as the screams of his brothers suddenly grew quiet. A threatening barrage of tears began to well behind his eyes. The blades had stopped whirling and a horrible silence descended.

His breathing shuddering in his chest, Donnie looked down at April. She didn't say anything. She didn't move. She didn't breath. He body was seemingly untouched, save for the deep gash across her throat. A violent ribbon of red cut through her slender neck, spilling her blood and snatching her into oblivion. At least it had been quick but that was hardly a consolation. Donnie shook the redhead and repeated her name, again and again even though he knew it was pointless. His mind refused to accept the obvious truth. April was gone. Dead. The painful lump in his throat thrust itself forward as the dreadful word lodged itself in his brain and refused to budge. Dead. They were all dead.

"April? Please-," wretched breaths hitched in his breast as tears freely flowed down his cheeks in glistening rivulets. "I-I'm sorry April, my-my brothers. I-I'm so, so sorry," Donnie cradled April to his chest the pain suddenly becoming too much for him to bear. Heaving sobs, the piteous moan he issued swelled until it burst forth as an animalistic howl of complete and utter despair. He had done this. This, was all his fault.

As poor Donatello wailed, Stockman's voice cut through the young one's grief, gently mocking and unsympathetic, clearly revelling in his own triumph. "Don't worry Donatello, I'll put you out of your misery soon enough."

The door Donnie had entered the chamber by, slowly slid open and the mousers trapped behind it suddenly surged through it. Electronic squeaks and squeals filled his ears and the desperate youth hugged April's body closer to him as the metal mob advanced. For a fleeting moment Donnie actually considered letting the mousers have him. Anything to take this awful pain away. He would greet oblivion with open arms and accept its cold embrace willingly.

It was Baxter Stockman's jubilant laugh that snapped Donatello out of his depression. The tears still wet on his cheeks he glared up to where he knew the vengeful scientist must have hidden cameras that were spying down upon him. He was suddenly sickened and ashamed that the damning thought had even entered his mind. There was no way he would give this twisted individual the satisfaction of just laying back and giving up. That wasn't who he was. April and his brothers wouldn't want him to die in that godforsaken place either. He would live. For all of them. He would live.

"Stockman! I will hunt you down for this! Do you hear me? Even if it takes the rest of my life, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!"

The digital clock's screen suddenly flashed and Stockman's bespectacled face dominated the far wall. Donnie glowered at the visage that he had never really considered as that much of a threat. "Oh, I very much doubt that turtle."

A seething metal mass encircled him and he drew April into a final embrace. Donnie buried his snout into her soft red locks and shuddered as he breathed her in. He had to leave. He had to get out if he ever hoped to make Stockman pay. Silent tears mingled in her vibrant tresses and Donnie carefully laid her down. "Forgive me April," he whispered, stroking a gentle thumb across her brow, brushing her fringe from her eyes. For a moment he could almost imagine that she was asleep, almost.

With one last look he snatched up his staff with the naginata blade already extended. With an angry but anguished yell he swung the weapon wide, slicing down the nearest mousers and forcing the ones behind to jump back. Taking the advantage, Donnie charged forward and dug in the butt end of the staff and vaulted over the mousers' heads. He crushed one underfoot as he landed, grunting in effort as he brought the naginata down on the monsters' skulls.

Something then pounded into the back of his shell. Donnie felt claws rake into the surface and with a cry of panic and fury he groped over his shoulder and seized a jutting edge. He winced as the unwanted passenger snapped its hard jaws shut, slicing at Donnie's fingers. "No hitchhikers!" He yelled, ripping the mouser loose and hurling it across the chamber. Not wasting any more time, Donnie cut a swathe of destruction through the enemy and headed for the door. He was going to get out the same way he and brothers got in.

However Stockman spotted Donnie's intention. "I don't think so turtle!" Behind his screen he jabbed a button and the great steel door started to slide down.

This only hastened Donnie's advance, smashing and crushing every mouser that dared to get in his way. His fight was fuelled by the overwhelming, stubborn desire to rob Stockman of his complete victory. Donnie finally cleared the gauntlet, the door only a quarter way down as he slid through it. He should have kept running. He shouldn't have looked back but he couldn't help it. Donnie turned and caught sight of his brothers' cylinder. He had managed not to look as the blade stole away their lives but now the image would be branded across his memory for the rest of his days. A horrified choke filled his throat as he discovered why the blades had stopped spinning. They had lodged into one of his brother's shells. A chip on the upper ridge betrayed the identity of the owner.

"No," he pressed a hand to his mouth forgetting about the mousers as the blood filled his mind. He never saw the two that jumped him. One latched onto his upper right arm; the other clamped onto his left shoulder. With a pained yell, Donnie wrenched the demons off, each tearing brutal gashes through his skin.

"Leave me!" He screamed as he threw them back into the bloody chamber.

The door finally closed, sealing Donatello away from the danger and the butchered remains of his loved ones. The emotional pain far outweighed his physical injuries as his surge of adrenaline finally ran out. Limbs shaking, his shuddering breath gave way to a low moan, which brought him to his hands and knees. It had come true. His nightmare, his night terror had played out before his eyes and once more he had watched his family get murdered, watched whilst he was still unable to make that impossible choice. Now they were gone and his guilt swept over him like a wave, drowning him in its churning waters.

Sobs wracked his body and from somewhere he found the strength to drag himself off the ground. He needed to get out, for them. He could not and he would not die there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not despair dear readers, just hang on and we will all get through this. Promise. :)
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who has taken the time to read this far, I really do appreciate it!


	8. 'I Failed...'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter dedicated to Splinter's view point. Also extremely sad chapter.... :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks, so be prepared for the following three or so chapters. They will be rather sad so, you have been warned. Stick with me though and trust me :)
> 
> And to all readers who have read this far or are new to the story altogether thank you, it is very much appreciated! :D
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> Say something I'm giving up on you,  
> I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you,  
> And anywhere I would've of followed you, oh,  
> Say something I'm giving up on you
> 
> Great Big World ft. Christine Aguilera 'Say Something'  
> ~~~~

Chapter 8 _'...I Failed'_

Splinter couldn't understand why his focus was so unbalanced that evening. His meditation kept getting interrupted by, well, that was just it. He wasn't entirely certain. Was it worry? Worry was certainly there but that wasn't the main culprit. Something felt wrong.

A flash of red stabbed though his mind and with a startled gasp he fell out of his self induced trance. A horrible tension twisted in his chest and he raised a hand to his heart that fluttered with a sense of dread, as if it knew something that he did not.

He took several cleansing breaths to steady his suddenly rattled nerves. He had never, in all his years experienced a sensation like that before. He sat a moment longer, bathed in the tranquillity of the silent dojo, beneath the boughs of the impossible flourishing tree but he still felt uneasy. Something was terribly amiss. He shut his eyes and sighed, unable to rid himself of the nagging doubt.

Splinter's ears suddenly twitched as in the subway tunnel just outside the lair, he heard a faint sound. It was a muffled tap, accompanied by a series of crunching, staggering steps. His sons had to be returning. For a moment his tension eased when he realised two things. The boys had left in the Shellraiser and there was only one owner to those shambling steps. What had happened to the vehicle? More importantly what had happened to his sons?

Urgency fueling his actions he retrieved his cane and hurried out into the main chamber of the lair. Splinter was several paces from the turnstiles as tall shadow suddenly cast itself against the tunnel wall. He recognised it instantly. Leaning upon his own staff was, "Donatello."

The shadow hesitated upon hearing his name and after a moment the young mutant finally came into view. He shakily approached the platform and slung his makeshift crutch across the cold stone floor with a hollow clatter. A bruised and bloody hand groped for purchase and Splinter closed the gap between them, worry tainting his usually stoic features. He reached down and offered a strong but gentle hand to aid his second youngest son up. Many questions flooded his mind but one took precedence over all the rest.

"Are you all right my son?"

Donnie took a sharp intake of breath, his normally bright eyes robbed of their inner sparkle, immediately squeezed shut. With a whimper the youngster bit his lip and shook his head.

Splinter took the image of his son in, initially alarmed by the many cuts that marked his body. He then noted something else. Something worrying. It wasn't just his injuries that caused his lithe stature to slump. There was something about his demeanor that reminded him of someone. Himself from a long half forgotten time ago when he lost his beloved Tang Shen and his beautiful daughter. It was a sure sign of a broken heart.

Fear suddenly gripped him. He placed his hands on Donatello's shoulders and silently willed him to look up. Splinter could tell it took some effort to do so but their eyes soon met. His son's mask was soaked with tears; the wetness still glistened upon his cheeks. Gently he asked, "what happened? Where are your brothers? Where is April?"

There followed a stiff shake of the head and a second piteous whimper. After a moment Donatello seemed to find a voice to speak with but it was broken, hollow and lost. "G-gone. Th-," his breath hitched painfully. "They're gone."

Without even realising Splinter's grip tightened on the child's shoulders inadvertently causing Donnie to utter a faint yelp of pain. "Gone?"

Donnie's head fell forward, silent tears seeping once more. "D-dead."

The ninja master took a sharp intake of breath and held it in as his mind tried to process the ugly word. "No," he uttered in a broken whisper.

Donatello shuddered; his eyes were now fast shut. "I- I'm sorry s-sensei. It's my fault."

Splinter blinked at this admission, scarcely able to believe it. The guilt though, the guilt that laid thick in Donatellos voice made his brow knit together with consternation. The boy must of seen this because a wretched sob escaped and his knees buckled beneath him. He began to slip through Splinter's hands but to stop him crumbling completely the mutant rat sank to his knees with him.

"I-I let them d-die," Donnie wept. "I-I," the words got lost somewhere behind the grief and desperate sobs shook his entire frame.

Splinter held back the agonising lump at the base of his throat and pressed the upset back. He let his arms slip about his distraught son and held him firmly to his chest. A bandaged hand stroked the back of Donnie's head, just as it had done when the boy was an upset toddler in his arms.

"Hush my child," he whispered. "Hush my son."

Donnie's own arms suddenly wrapped about his father, causing a startled half gasp to escape the rat's throat. He was so unaccustomed to this now. He had trained his sons to be strong ninja warriors but he continued to forget they were still children. They were caught midway between a youngster and a man.

Well, they had been...

Tears abruptly welled but remained unshed. There would be time enough for that later. So Splinter remained, knelt upon the floor with his weeping child held tight in his arms.

XXXX

Splinter had no idea how long he knelt there, Donatello shaking in his protective embrace as any attempt to soothe him failed. The sobs gradually subsided though and wordlessly the father got his broken son to stand, ushering him along at a pace the boy was comfortable with. It was painfully slow progress but Splinter's patience was infinite.

He led Donatello to the bathroom. The blood and the grime had to be washed clean before he could tend his son's many wounds properly. Splinter carefully removed Donnie's gear. The boy continued to watch mutely as he started the shower and waited for the temperature to change. A simple motion of the hand was all the command that Splinter needed and Donatello obeyed without question.

The blood, the sweat, the dirt sluiced down Donnie's body and Splinter regarded his son with concern as he watched the dirty, champagne pink water spiral down the drain. The youth stared with such intense concentration that the father began to worry.

As the warm water peeled away the semi-dry blood, it was with an inner start that Splinter noticed that not all the red that stained Donatello was his own. What precisely had happened? He didn't really want to know. But he had too.

Once Splinter was satisfied he lead Donnie to the main living area and sat him down, bearing with him everything he needed to treat his child's wounds. He retained a solemn expression as he swept cotton soaked in antiseptic over each and every cut, his eyes flicking up every time Donatello winced. The gashes on his shoulders and upper right arm required sutures and the tall rat calmly threaded the needle.

"Ready?"

The teen nodded, staring blankly into the middle distance. To Splinter it seemed some kind of shock had started to set in, not that it was of much surprise. Donatello had undergone a severe mental trauma and it was impossible to say how long it would last.

It took an hour to stitch the lacerations closed and bandage them accordingly. Donatello said nothing throughout, only the twitches of pain that flickered across his face as the needle slipped in and out told Splinter that he felt anything at all. When all was done Splinter paused and rested a hand over his son's.  
"Donatello?" He spoke softly. _"Look up."_ He applied gentle pressure to his touch. "Look up my son," he repeated.

Donatello finally raised mournful eyes to him. Splinter proceeded carefully. "Can you tell me, where all this happened?"

The boy's features creased and he nodded. "In-in a warehouse," he uttered faintly, his voice seemed far away. "The co-ordinates are, on my T-phone," he paused as if considering something. "I-I could show you sensei-"

Splinter immediately raised his hand. "No, no that will not be necessary," he couldn't ask Donatello to return to that place so soon. What he had to do next, he would do alone.

XXXX

Splinter wouldn't allow his son to sleep alone that night and sat at the bedside in his own tranquil room. A hand was rested on the ridge of his sons shell, a reassurance to let the boy know that he was still there. He barely slept himself; eyes ever watchful but relieved that Donatello was free from reality at least for a little while.

As dawn slowly rolled across the floor, Splinter had made his decision. Leaning forward he kissed his sons head and quietly rose to his feet. He had to act quickly for he did not want his child to wake and find him gone. He sought out Donnie's T-phone and though unfamiliar with the controls he pushed a few buttons until a map flashed up with an address present at the bottom of the screen. With a sage nod, Splinter gathered the items that he needed and swiftly left the lair.

XXXX

Splinter would never forget the sights he saw in that terrible place, though it brought closure, it didn't stop the memories of the past to come flowing back in great gushing torrents. He blinked several times and breathed in slow trying to eliminate the raw coiling feeling that writhed at the bottom of his stomach. This was indeed a house of horrors.

The sudden sight of April quickened his heart. It was the way that she had so carefully been laid down, her hands resting on her chest as if she were only slumbering. It brought an overwhelming rush of sorrow that he found incredibly hard to keep back. He knew Donatello had cared a lot for her but this seemed so much more than that. A devotion, dare he say it, love?

Poor Donatello.

Splinter had seen the crush, plain as day. He never realised over so short a space of time how deeply Donatello had actually fallen for her. In that moment Splinter could only admire his son's strength. It must of take so much to leave her body behind. Not without a tear in his eye, Splinter laid the blanket he had brought over April and then turned stiffly to the horror of the second cylinder.

Taking in the scene for several seconds was just too much for him to bear. How he managed to scale the cylinder, break open the hatch and pour the oil that he had brought over the remains of his sons, Splinter would never know. He blocked the actions from his mind. Whispering a prayer, he lit a candle and cast it down where the oil instantly ignited.

Splinter's amber brown eyes snapped shut as echoes of the loss of his first family raced across his mind. He hoped that he wouldn't have to use the oil but when he had left the lair he had no idea of what to expect when he got here. It was worse than he imagined. It was no wonder Donatello could barely speak about it.

As the flames licked higher and feeling the heat rise and warm the glass beneath him, Splinter let go and landed heavily and not as gracefully as he normally would have. He carefully eased April's body into his arms, feeling a wretched twist of pain grip his breast as he held her against him. He still found it hard to believe that this had actually happened. Ignoring the mournful hitch in his breath, the ninja master left the chamber, not looking back at the improvised funeral pyre. Thick tears finally escaped his eyes as he failed to push them back, tracking the glowing red brown fur of his cheeks in non-stop glassy rivulets.

XXXX

Splinter was cleansing April's pale body when he felt eyes upon him. His own flicking up, the harsh gaze that accompanied them immediately softened. Donatello, probably only awoken minutes before, stood staring at the scene before him. He was pale, with an indescribable expression spread across his usually passive face.

"You went there."

Splinter cast his eyes back down. "I had too."

Donnie almost looked hurt. "Without me?"

The father sighed. "I could not ask you to Donatello. You barely escaped with your life. You were certainly not ready to return."

The boy briefly looked away.

"I am not finished here my son. Go. I will call you when I am ready."

Donnie hesitated and stared at April, suddenly unable to move.

"My son," he reiterated. "Please, go," he didn't want Donatello to see her this way. It wasn't right but the youngster refused to move. Splinter never meant to but his temper broke and he snapped. "Leave us now!" His voice boomed out of the chamber.

Donnie blanched, his features creased and his eyes suddenly grew glassy. With a hiccup of a suppressed sob, the boy bolted. Moments later the lab door clanged shut.

Splinter raised a weary hand to his head. " Chikushō," he muttered. What was wrong with him? Donatello's emotions were paper-thin at the moment. That was the last thing the poor child needed to hear. He gently pounded the table that April's body was laid upon. He sighed and slid the sheet back over her delicate form. A moment later he found himself standing in front of the lab door.

Splinter hesitated before he tapped upon it. A miserable sniff was the only response. The father pushed lightly on the heavy metal and stepped into the chamber that he rarely entered. He found Donatello sat at his workbench with his back to him, holding some unidentifiable electronics in his hands.

"Donatello?"

The young teen paused, sniffing once more. "I'm sorry sensei," Splinter's brow creased. "I'll never, not listen to you again."

The old warrior sighed. It was long and deep. "My son, please don't," he finally uttered, standing directly behind the child. "I need to offer my apologies to you."

Donnie inclined his head slightly but didn't look up. "Sensei?"

"I am sorry for raising my voice to you Donatello. I did not mean to loose my temper, gomenasai."

Donnie dropped his head, the device in his fingers tumbling onto the work surface with a forlorn rattle. The hands went to his head.

"My son?"

"What do I do now sensei?" His voice was barely audible. "What, do I do?"

Splinter lowered his head and laid a gentle hand on Donnie's shoulder. He knew what his son truly meant but for that he had no answer. Instead he replied, "Just hold on Donatello. When I have- I will fetch you when everything is ready. You can say your goodbyes properly," he paused. "I will be returning April to her father tomorrow morning."

Donnie's head bobbed up and he turned, staring up at him. "Let me go with you."

Splinter's heart suddenly ached at the expression that had captured his son's face. Unfortunately there was only one answer he could give. "No Donatello."

"Please sensei! I want to explain-"

Splinter shook his head sadly. "I could not ask you too and I do not think that Mr. O'Neil needs to know the precise details to his daughter's death right now."

Donnie's tone had suddenly grown desperate. "But I-I want t-to apologise-"

"No!"

Donnie shrank back as if he'd been physically burnt. "B-but sensei," his voice was barely a whisper, a desperate plea.

Splinter sighed and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. He'd lost his temper again but he simply could not thrust his son into such a painful and difficult situation. Learning that his daughter was dead was going to bad enough. Donatello's explanations, no matter how sincere, no matter how honest were going to help the situation. He feared a terrible backlash from Mr. O'Neil if Donatello could even get the words past his throat and he didn't think his son could emotionally take something of that magnitude in his currently fragile state of mind. It could destroy him. He just couldn't risk it.

Splinter raised a placating hand and spoke softly. "Kodomo please understand that it is for your own good that I deny you this wish. I will say what needs to be said and do what needs to be done but at this moment it would be terribly unwise for you to accompany me," he placed a hand atop his son's head. "Please tell me that you understand Donatello."

The father watched as Donatello's bottom lip quivered, processing the words he'd just fed to him. He felt the youth's head shake in a negative response but his words contradicted the action. "Ha-hai sensei," he uttered with despondent acceptance.

Splinter breathed deeply through his nose glad that his son had accepted his decision but deeply saddened that he had to say it. Would it have been better to have said nothing at all and accepted the repercussions later? Well, that was something that he now would never know.

"I am sorry Donatello," he suddenly found himself saying.

Donnie's body jolted from a suppressed sob and a fist was pressed to his mouth. Splinter decided this was the point to make his leave. He patted the child's head and turned when Donnie lurched forward suddenly and snagged the sleeve of his robe. The rat started and looked down to where Donatello now sat kneeling on the floor shivering like a leaf in the wind.

"Father? I-I'm sorry f-for everything," he stammered out in a wavering voice.

Splinter could not stop the wave of sorrow that crashed down upon his face. He breathed in and closed his eyes, he knew what Donatello was now begging from him and he refused to give it him because in his heart of hearts he did not blame Donatello for what had happened. Not even remotely. His son wanted him to lay blame on him, find him guilty but he could not and would not do that. Not ever.

"No Donatello," he said firmly but not unkindly. "You, have nothing, absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Nothing," he affirmed, slicing his free arm through the air before him.

Donnie crumpled back, releasing Splinter's robe clasping his now shaking hands to his breast. 'Something, anything, just find me guilty, please,' his expression pleaded.

Splinter shook his head, not trusting himself to say anymore. A lump was beginning to form at the base of his throat and a bubbling anger started to froth into life. Now he understood why Donatello wanted to see Mr. O'Neil. His son's current state of mind demanded blame, a blame that was totally undeserved, unwarranted but a tick suddenly nagged at the back of his mind. Way back when Tang Shen perished and Miwa was lost he had wanted the same thing but he knew that he was the only one to blame. That guilt, that blame was deserved. This on the other hand was a completely different matter as far the ageing warrior was concerned. No, Donatello was asking for something that Splinter just couldn't give to him. He only hoped that his son didn't wind up hating him for it.

Shutting his eyes and despising every action he made Splinter turned completely away from Donatello and slowly walked away. He heard what sounded like a strangled yelp of anguish at his dismissal. A breath squeezed in and a desperate gulp and a dull thump as something heavy fell to the floor. Then there was a sob, wretched, deep and wounding. Splinter's chest tensed but carried on moving, lest his wretched resolve fail him. Another gut wrenching sob followed then another and another. The sound was almost too much to take and just before he reached the lab#s door he faltered. He wanted to dash back and gather his desolate child into his arms and not let him go. It rendered his heart in two to endure the pitiful noise of his remaining son's grief but he couldn't give into Donatello's unspoken plea. Another step took him out of the lab and finally he turned to close the door behind him. His arms trembled as he took the cold steel in his hands. There was a catch in his throat as he took in the sight that had transpired behind him, tears finally prickled his own eyes. Donatello lay sprawled on the floor with fists clenched to his brow and arms folded together obscuring his face. His whole body jolted as every violent sob seized his being. There were just not enough tears in the world for him. He would bleed it dry with his guilt-ridden grief. Splinter dropped his head and quietly pulled the door shut. He couldn't bear to witness anymore and cursed himself for it.

XXXX

Even though the door was closed Donatello's desperate misery could seemingly be heard throughout the lair. Splinter could not say how long it lasted but it seemed to go on for the longest time punctuated now and again by a yell, a scream and something crashing against the floor or wall of the lab. It would always descend back to pained weeping but the ninja master, though despising himself for it never interfered. His poor son had every right to expel his own inner demons anyway he could and if that meant falling into a raging, guilt filled tantrum then so be it. But he wasn't about to give in and give Donatello what he desired. Condemnation, blame for what had happened because he did not deserve it and so the horrible sound continued until finally it appeared to fade into nothing.

Master Splinter had finished with preparing April's young body, resting a reverent hand across her cool brow with a look of deepest sorrow. This was one of the hardest acts he had ever performed but it was now almost done. Candles flickered warmly from the corners of the chamber with gentle incense drifting in the airs about him. He breathed in deeply through his nose and let it out slow, steadying his tumultuous feelings of the whole situation. Slowly he opened his eyes, ears dipped, knowing what he had to do next. "Good bye April my child," he murmured and raised his head to the chamber door. He had to get Donatello.

Splinter rested a hand against the cool metal and listened carefully before he dared to open the door to see what lay in the room beyond it. He suppressed the sudden gasp that pushed up his throat, his eyes full of dismay. He pressed a quivering hand to his breast and suddenly wished he had done something to prevent the ruin he saw in that chamber. But really, what could he have done? Donatello needed to let everything out but he had never imagined his normally placid and level headed son to show such a frightening display of complete and utter destruction.

Every piece of equipment, tool and device that Donatello coveted was strewn across the floor. Some items were smashed beyond recognition others just lay dented and forgotten in the chaos that was once the resident genius's lab. If Splinter hadn't of known any better he would have said that an explosion had ripped through the heart of his son's lab. Debris and remnants of a life that now lay in tatters, torn and shredded beyond recognition littered the ground and laying in the midst of this violent despair was the epi-centre of that explosion, the ticking bomb that had thrown its entire wrath at the material possessions surrounding it.

Splinter swallowed down the painful lump that had began to fill his throat and stepped into the result of Donatello's self felt guilt. His child was curled up in a foetal position in the centre of the floor; metal springs, broken circuit boards, splintered glass and fractured plastic from a computer monitor were scattered immediately about him. A short distance from his now gently clenched fist was a lump hammer still resting atop that last thing that it had smashed asunder. Splinter frowned slightly and his features fell. Although shattered beyond repair, the object was instantly recognisable. Donnie's T-phone that Splinter had returned to the lab shortly after he had returned with April's body. He must of left the address displayed on the screen. The father shook his head and stood before Donatello's prone form, one arm wrapped around his face almost as if to hide himself from his own agony.

Splinter cleared his throat, resisting the urge to suddenly take his son into his arms. "Donatello?" He said quietly.

Donnie twitched, reacting to his voice but didn't move further than that. Splinter made a decision and crouched down, laying his green cane to one side and dared to lay a hand on the edge of the young mutant's shell, near to his bandaged shoulder. "Donatello, please."

Donnie shifted and pressed his face to the cold floor, wrapping his arm closer and drawing his extended arm into his body until it was clutched against his plastron. He never spoke.

Splinter shut his eyes and felt his hand grip his sons shell a little more firmly. "I came to tell you that you are welcome to now say your-," the rat hesitated. "-Goodbyes."

Donatello shuddered beneath his grip and Splinter cursed himself. He couldn't of put it any easy to him. "Whenever you are ready, you may join me my son."

There was an uncomfortable silence and Donnie raised his head slightly so he could speak. "Hai, sensei," his voice was understandably hoarse, almost like a gravely whisper.

Splinter slowly stood, nodding even though Donatello couldn't see him do it. He turned to make his leave when he heard the boy shift behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. Donatello had rolled onto his front, shaking arms pushing him up from the concrete of the floor. Trembling breaths now heaved from his chest, as if the effort to right him self was just too much. Then he spoke again and Splinter felt his chest tighten. "Don't, you walk out, on me again," he shivered in a laboured but cold tone.

He finally revealed his features to his sensei and it took all of Splinter's strength to not react at what he saw. Once sparkling eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot with dried tear tracks staining his face, his grief was raw and painful to look upon. But Splinter saw something else there too. A silent accusation that seemed to say, 'are you happy now? Look at me, look around you, this is your fault. Why can't you give me what I want?'

Splinter dropped his gaze and turned back to reach down a helping hand that Donatello then viciously slapped away. "I don't need your pity!" He snapped hotly.

Splinter frowned, affronted at this disrespect but quickly bit his tongue at what he was about to say. He let out another sigh and drew back. He would allow Donatello this because he understood the motivation behind it. The sudden cold rejection stung though, a lot. He watched the scene, giving his own features an expression of cool detachment as Donnie struggled to his unsteady feet. He was aware at how stubborn Donnie could tend to be so kept his hands glued to the top of his cane.

The father let his son take the lead, keeping a respectable distance between them. Splinter was also glad that he had hung back because as Donatello's staggering steps took him across the lair, causing him to list one way and then the other, the parent winced and willed his hands to remain where they were.

They finally reached the doorway to the chamber that April's body currently resided and Donnie abruptly stopped. It was almost a sudden halt as his weight swayed forward from the momentum of his previous step. He slumped back and finally let himself lean into the doorframe. His sights seemed fixed on April. Stood only several paces behind, Splinter noted the minute tremble of his sons limbs. His brow furrowed but his voice remained level.

"Something ails you my son?"

The response was sharp and bitter. "What do you think?"

Again the words and the tone bit deep but Splinter let it slip. Patiently he said, "April, she waits for you Donatello," his son never moved. He waited a full minute before daring to prompt the next action. A hand on his shell, Splinter gently pushed the teen forward expecting another negative response but none came.

Donatello sank into the chair that Splinter had set beside the table; his upset eyes focused on April's serene, peaceful features.

"I will be in the dojo should you need me my son," the father uttered. The boy made no move to suggest that he had heard him but Splinter didn't press the matter. Donatello just needed time and was just what he was going to give him.

XXXX

It was late when Splinter went to see what had become of Donatello. Everything was quiet, too quiet really but of course it would be now the rat sadly reflected. He thought Donatello had maybe retreated to his bedroom but on inspection of the chamber he had left him in, he found his son still there. His head was resting on folded arms as he gazed dewy eyed at the young redhead. Splinter shook his head. He considered for a moment of letting Donatello stay there but finally decided that would probably be unwise. He cleared his throat.

Donnie's eyes lifted to behold him and the father felt a pang in his breast. "My son, you must get some rest."

Donatello shook his and looked back at April. "No," he whispered. The hostility was now thankfully lost from his tone.

"You cannot sit here all night," Splinter consoled.

There was a short silence. "I don't want to leave her alone," was the sorrowful whisper that answered.

Splinter's brow creased sympathetically. He raised a hand and gestured to the nearby table on the opposite side of the room where he had laid his sons' retrieved weapons. Candles flickered warmly at either end. "Your brothers can watch over her now, my son."

Donatello's features fell at the mention of his departed siblings but said nothing in response. His eyes slipped across to the weapons and he instantly dropped his head. He pushed back from the table and traced an idle finger along the cloth that April was laid upon, almost as if he was too afraid to touch her. "Good bye April," he murmured.

Splinter had to clear his throat as the lump there swelled a little too painfully. He waited until Donatello had left the chamber before he closed the door quietly behind him. "Sleep well my child," he whispered in reverence of her. It felt like it was going to be another long night.

XXXX

Sleep had taken Splinter for a few hours when something stirred him from his troubled dreams. He stared at the darkened ceiling as his keen ears twitched and then finally drooped as he recognised the noise that had roused him. Donatello had opted to sleep in his own room and the father respected his wishes. The old rat sighed, pressing a hand to his brow and tried to quell the sudden dull ache in his chest. Unable to ease it Splinter abruptly sat and lit a candle by his bedside. How could he possibly sleep now?

Retrieving his cane he left his chamber and gently pushed on the door of his remaining son's room. "Donatello?" He said quietly, holding his candle aloft. He fully expected a bitter rebuke; a hurt filled insult but his son uttered not one word.

Donnie was sat curled in the centre of the bed, furiously clutching something to his chest as he fought a bout of guilty tears. Brow creasing Splinter entered the room and placed his candle on the bed stand.

"Donatello-?"

"I failed them sensei," the boy wept, squeezing what he held even closer to his breast. "I-I failed all of you. Th-they're all gone, an-and it's me, it's my fault."

Splinter sighed. Donatello having failed in getting him to lay blame upon him had taken the mantel and donned it upon himself. It was the last thing that the father wanted or intended but in light of everything it was to be expected. Why else would Donatello destroy the precious possessions and accomplishments of his life if not to subconsciously punish himself?

"IT'S MY FAULT!"

Enough of this madness. Before Splinter could check his actions he had sat himself on the bed and drawn an arm across his distraught child's shoulders. "Hush kodomo, hush," he soothed, dearly hoping his voice sounded as steady as he willed it to be. "Shizuka my son."

Donnie hiccuped and fell against his father, any anger that was previously held against him was lost as his self-loathing took vicious hold of him. "If-if I hadn't hesitated. If-if I'd t-told you the dream like Mike-," his voice abruptly hitched. "Like Mikey told me to, maybe- may- maybe it wouldn't have happened. I-I sh-should of done something. I-I-"

Splinter instinctively drew his other arm about Donatello and gently rubbed his shell in reassuring circles. "Please Donatello, calm yourself," he tried once more.

"He-he made me choose," Donnie uttered, his tone still thick with tears. "Stockman, he-he made me choose between them, an-an I couldn't. I-I just couldn't-," his voice failed again and Splinter drew his child closer, a streak of anger flashing through him.

When he next spoke he kept his voice steady. "You were in an impossible situation my son, no one could have made a choice like that. No one."

Donnie shook his head roughly against his father's robe. "Y-you would have. You would have saved them all sensei."

Splinter sighed deeply through his nose. "I doubt it my son," how could he of chosen between his sons and the girl he considered as a daughter? He knew he wouldn't have fared any better. Donnie shuddered in the rat's embrace and Splinter wished he had just kept silent.

He finally saw what Donatello clung to so desperately. It was Michelangelo's teddy bear. Tears beaded from his own eyes and the ninja master shivered a heart broken sigh. It was going to be a long healing process, for them both.


	9. 'Ghosts'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More sadness I'm afraid and a little time jump!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~  
> 'I'm so tired of being here  
> Suppressed by all my childish fears  
> And if you have to leave  
> I wish that you would just leave  
> 'Cause your presence still lingers here  
> And it won't leave me alone
> 
> These wounds won't seem to heal  
> This pain is just too real  
> There's just too much that time cannot erase...'
> 
> My Immortal - by Evanescence  
> ~~~~  
> (I found this whole song to be rather poignant to this chapter. Just hang on my dears, one more sad chapter after this then we can start looking up again! :) )

Chapter 9 _Ghosts_

All was quiet in the lair save for the occasional beeps and bells from the arcade and pinball machine that Donnie refused to unplug but wouldn't play. Too many memories to lose and remember.

Donnie, 19 years old and 4 inches taller sat in his lab readjusting a temperamental security camera, cursing as he touched a wrong wire causing it to spit rudely up at him. "For goodness sake you little, urgh," it happened again and Donnie abruptly threw the soldering pen down with a frustrated shout. "Be like that then! See if I care!"

"Donatello?"

The mutant turtle shoved the camera away from him bringing a hand to his head in bitter frustration. "Yes sensei?" He uttered wearily.

"It is time my son."

Donnie sighed deeply and leaned back on his chair causing it to creak and squeak in protest. "Hai sensei, would you give me one minute?"

The tall rat nodded from the doorway. "Of course Donatello, I will be waiting in the main living area."

"Thank you sensei," he was left alone again.

The teen glanced at the clock hung on the wall before him. Time it seemed was passing him by again. Had it really been another year? He glanced across at the numerous photographs that he had tacked to wall behind of his workbench, suddenly feeling an anxiousness tense his chest. His fingers stretched out and traced them across the nearest picture and his breath hitched in his throat. Four years. Four. He scarcely believed it. Had it really been that long?

It took a second to decide and Donnie peeled the picture off the wall and tucked it under the strap that crossed his plastron. He crossed the silent lab and holstered the staff that stood up against the doorway. The weight brought a comforting reassurance and he took a steadying breath as he left the chamber.

Splinter was waiting patiently in the centre of the room, hand folded atop his green crystal cane. "Are you ready my son?"

Donnie nodded. "Hai sensei," he turned to head toward the exit that they normally used but the next line his father spoke froze his feet to the floor.

"I thought we could take the Shellraiser there this time."

Donnie swallowed nervously. "Th-the Shellraiser?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I-I don't know sensei. It-it's been standing idle for so long it probably won't even run."

Splinter raised a disbelieving eyebrow and quirked his head to side. "Is that so?"

Donnie nodded stiffly but knew Splinter saw straight through the lame excuse.

"Do not lie to me. Will the Shellraiser start?"

Donatello's shoulders slumped and he looked to the side to try and hide his guilt. "Yes, sensei. It will," he murmured.

"Then lead the way," Splinter motioned with his hand.

Donnie tried one more time. "I'd much rather walk sensei, if, if you don't mind."

"I do mind," there was a hard edge to Splinter's blunt answer.

Donnie winced. There seemed to be no way out of it and when Splinter pointed again the teen reluctantly obeyed. He had to face it some time. Pushing through the turnstiles the young mutant ploughed to a halt several paces from the Shellraiser's door. A barrage of memories swept up and over him, crashing about his ankles as he stared, unable to move.

"Is something wrong?"

The youth hesitated. "No sensei," he lied.

"Well then, the door will not open itself my son."

Donnie dared to move closer and held his breath as he reached out and activated the converted train carriage's door. It hissed open with a tired mechanical sigh. The youth bit down hard an his bottom lip and felt himself quake as the musty smell of years old abandonment hit him full in the face.

"You can do it," Splinter reassured. "I am right here."

Donnie shut his eyes and nodded. He placed his hands either side of the door's opening and hauled himself up. He had had not dared laid a foot inside the Shellraiser since the day he had driven it back from that damned house of horrors. When he had reached the lair he was a quivering wreck. His brothers' voices seemed to be all around him and then their screams. He couldn't get away from the vehicle fast enough. He'd spent the next two days huddled in the corner of his bedroom wailing, convinced his brothers were haunting him, blaming him for their deaths. Oh yes, that first year had been a dark one. His father though, he managed to keep him sane, pulled him back from the edge of oblivion and stopped his mind from going crazy with grief. Splinter even bore the brunt of his bouts of desperate fury toward him for not laying the blame upon Donnie. He shut his eyes. He wasn't proud of that.

The mere sight of the Shellraiser still gave him chills sending icy spears of fright that sliced to the very core of his being. He avoiding even looking in the direction of the turnstiles knowing this was the last place he'd parked the invention that he was once so very proud of. He recalled the praise he'd received from Raphael, a rarity indeed and it was something that he treasured to this day. An unexpected lump pressed in his throat.

The first step was hard. The second was even worse. Donnie's eyes slipped across the interior, taking in each of the individual stations that he had intended each of his brothers to use dependent on their skills, navigation, weapons and the driver. The analyst position sat empty and alone at the back of the Shellraiser. It was in the best place where he could monitor the data on the numerous screens from his on-board computer and to keep a watchful eye on the activities of his brothers. He spied an old comic, shoved unceremoniously under the navigation's chair cushion by its owner and the lump in his throat swelled a fraction too big. Donnie couldn't take another step further.

Whispers, voices of the past seemed to echo all about him. He could see them in their placements laughing, joking, arguing, every sound that he associated with this place filtered into his mind. This was too much. He had managed to close this off, block it from his memories for the longest time. They were far too strong in this place. His head began to throb. An iron fist squeezed at his chest and Donnie suddenly found it too hard to breathe. He needed to get out. Get out before the voices started haunting him again. He couldn't do this.

Donnie stepped back one, two and the third found his shell butt up against something firm and unyielding. "You have come this far Donatello, do not back out now."

Donnie glanced over his shoulder. Still standing outside, Splinter stood poised, with his arm out, a strong hand pressed against his carapace, solid and unmoving. Anxious eyes swept over the interior once more and just as he feared the voices rose about him. Donnie shook his head, his breaths getting shallower as he began to hyperventilate. His legs turned to water and he shoved back against the obstacle as he felt the beginnings of a full-blown panic attack take hold.

"Let me out sensei," the youth uttered desperately.

"No. You will get past this."

Donnie brought both hands to his head as he felt his muscles seize and begin to tremble. "I can't."

"You will."

Donnie gasped, the world began to spin about him and started to press in on him as the accusations he feared flooded the rest of his senses. He thrust himself back but Splinter refused to relent. His anxiety was taking hold and try as he might Donnie couldn't control it.

"Sensei, father please! I can't do this!" He cried, releasing a half broken sob before he could bite it back.

Splinter finally seemed to loose his infinite patience. "Chikusho Donatello! Do not let this irrational fear rule you! If you cannot conquer it, it will rule you for the rest of your days!"

A more pronounced sob escaped and Donnie pushed back with frustration as he whimpered plaintively.

_'Look up.'_

An alarmed cry leapt up Donnie's throat and he thrust himself back with renewed effort. "Let me out! LET ME OUT!" He suddenly felt gentle pressure on either shoulder and a voice calm and reassuring met his ears.

"Close your eyes and breathe in deep and let it out slow."

Donnie did as he was told.

"And again."

Donnie repeated the action and his limbs stopped quaking and the voices faded. At last he found that he could open his eyes. He focused on his toes and continued until his breaths no longer shuddered from his chest. At last he looked up and stared straight ahead.

"How do you feel now my son?"

"Better, thank you sensei," Donnie uttered gratefully.

"You must not let these negative feelings overwhelm you my son. They will eat away at your soul until you have nothing left. If you meditate and calm you mind, you will find it easier to control these unwanted fears. Focus on the positive."

"I will try sensei."

Splinter stepped into the Shellraiser behind his son, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Let us go then my son."

Donatello nodded. "Hai sensei."

XXXX

It was a quiet ride to the warehouse and although Donnie's anxieties prickled at the back of his mind, he managed to keep a level head. He kept sensing Splinter gazing across at him from the weapons station though. He knew a tense expression had take residence across his face, a mere reflection of what he truly felt like inside despite his sensei's wise and comforting words.

Donnie knew that he would never really be rid of it. He just had to thrust it down, push it back and concentrate on what he had. Easier said than done though. Oh yes, easier said than done.

Entering the warehouse was hard, not physically but emotionally, as it always had been for Donatello. He tried to hide behind a stoic mask but that had never been his strongest suit. His emotions had nearly always been easy to read ever since he was a child. Hiding behind a book never worked the same as burying himself in research or his latest invention. It was a testament that something was bothering him when he immersed himself so deeply by hiding from the happenings of the world around him.

This was no different. As they found themselves standing in that unholy place where it had happened, Splinter saw straight through his shallow ruse. An aged hand was rested on the back of his scarred shell.

"Would you like to light the candles this time?" He asked gently.

Donnie hesitated but then found himself nodding. "Hai sensei, I would."

Splinter reached into the bag that he carried and passed his child a book of matches.

For a moment Donnie just stood, staring at them, turning them over and over in his hand, nipping his bottom lip as he did so.

"Take all the time you need Donatello," Splinter said softly.

Donnie squeezed his eyes shut and palmed the matches as he drew a steadying breath. He didn't know how long he stood there that way. It could have been an eternity for all he knew. All he concentrated on was the beating of his anxious heart.

After an age and without further hesitation Donatello opened his eyes, flipped the matchbook open and approached the four well burned candles placed on the floor between the still suspended cylinders. The youth deliberately kept his eyes away from them.

He struck a match, holding it steadily between his thick fingers before slowly lighting each candle pausing before he lit the next. Leonardo. Raphael. Michelangelo. April. A lump rose in his throat and a hand was instinctively pressed against the photograph slipped under his shoulder strap.

Gradually Donnie hauled himself up still feeling the heavy weight upon his shoulders when he first left this death trap all those years ago. He caught a glimpse of his brothers' cylinder out of the corner of his eye, (their ashes had long since been retrieved from their tomb) and the mask he'd been wearing creased as he backed away till he stood alongside his father.

They were practically equal in height now but Donnie still felt like that frightened fifteen year old that had stumbled back to the lair that dark night, the child who had lost everything. He finally felt tears sting at his eyes as the last of his stubborn resolve to remain stoic faced like his teacher shattered in the matter of a second.

His shoulders quivered and his throat worked as he vainly tried one last ditch attempt to swallow the grief back down but stubborn as he was it seemed, the grief dug in its claws like a beast and thrust itself forward until Donnie couldn't fight it back any more. His defences crumbled into nothing and before he knew it he had one arm wrapped about his torso and the other hand mashed against his face as the beast of grief invited the monster of guilt along to its terrible party. Hot tears burned from his eyes and his sobs seized his lithe frame in painful, unrelenting spasms.

Donnie hadn't lost himself to this darkness since the initial loss and he couldn't stop. God forgive it, he just couldn't reign it in or push it back. Damn it! He couldn't freaking control himself. It was stepping into the damn Shellraiser. That's what had done it.

His father's arm was then about him and he allowed himself to be drawn in, seeking comfort from the soft fur of the rat's neck as he pressed his face into his shoulder.

'Never leave me,' Donnie suddenly found himself praying. 'I never want to be alone.' It was an idle wish. He knew that nobody lived forever but the youth swore that if his father wasn't there to ground him he would go mad with loneliness.

So, in that shrine, in that place of lost hope, Donatello clung to his father and promised himself that he would never allow that to happen. His tears continued to fall until he had no more left to give.


	10. 'Alone'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fancy a jump forward in time? Heads up for some mild swearing. Enjoy my dear friends. :)  
> ~~~~  
> 'Wont you teach me how to love and learn,  
> There'll be nothing left for me to yearn,  
> Think of me and burn and let me hold your hand,  
> Oh yeah-ah-eh,  
> I don't want to face the world in tears,  
> Please think again, I'm on my knees,  
> Sing that song to me,  
> No reason to repent,
> 
> This is the rhythm of the night, the night, oh yeah,  
> The rhythm of the night,  
> This is the rhythm of my life, my life, oh yeah,  
> The rhythm of my life...
> 
> by Bastille, 'Of The Night' (originally by Corona)  
> ~~~~

**26 years later...**

Over the rooftops of New York, a hooded figure, tall in stature; jumped effortlessly across the alleyways and streets, the tails of the hood's scarf whipping out soundlessly behind like a ribbon made of shadow. For a moment the figure paused, perched on a building's ledge bathed in the chill of the twinkling night. Bright chestnut eyes stared out into the distance like some exotic avenging angel.

A sudden crash and a splintering of wood immediately snapped his gaze downward. His breath hissed out in aggravation, frosting in the late autumn airs.

"Really? So soon?" He whispered as he stared through the skylight of the adjacent building, watching as a group of young Purple Dragons poured into what appeared to be a stockroom.

Donatello leapt down to the neighbouring store, alighting upon the roof as softly as a cat in velvet stockings. Bathed in shadow, the ninja master watched the break-in with astute eyes, the frown deepening across his brow. "How many times do I have to tell these stupid kids?" He muttered under his breath, his callused hand brushing silently against the glass.

He shook his head. In his heart he knew he was fighting a loosing battle but he had to try. These kids still had a choice, if he could get through to just one of them, it would be enough. At least he would know that he'd made a difference.

A second later purple smoke filled the stockroom followed by a chorus of startled cries. Several bodies were thrown against the walls, closely followed by groans. The smoke dissipated and one of the youth's recovering from a coughing fit suddenly pointed at the cause of the confusion.

"It's that preachy tall freak! Get him!"

Four of the group attacked, hefting makeshift weapons from chains, crowbars and even hammers.

"You kids know this fight is only going to have one outcome, don't you?"

A chain whipped across Donatello's vision and he swiftly raised his staff. The links wrapped around the multicoloured bandaging and with a soft grunt of effort the mutant yanked the unsuspecting Purple Dragon off his feet. The youth yelped and soon found himself lying in a heap on the floor next to his other dazed comrades.

A blow to the stomach and a crowbar soon clattered onto the floor, immediately followed by its owner. A hammer was then swiped across and Donatello easily stepped back and grabbed the assailant's wrist. A quick tug and the boy was thrown over his shell onto the groaning bodies behind him.

Then there was just one kid left standing. The tall mutant regarded him for a minute. The boy was quaking in his heavy second hand army boots, now not so brave that his companions were all passed out on the floor around him. He couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. God, these Purple Dragons just seemed to be getting younger. It was terrible and though Donatello tried he couldn't stop the influx of these young recruits all so eager to throw their lives away for what? Some street cred? It was ridiculous. Oh yes, he knew there was a lot more to it than that but it was the youths out there trying to make a name for themselves that the ninja master truly despised and the ones that put the idea in their heads to begin with. It was a vicious cycle and like Ouroborous, the serpent swallowing its own tail it was a circle that never ended. It just boiled turtle's blood.

"All you have to do is walk away kid."

The boy stood frozen to the spot but his eyes flicked down to something tucked into the waistband of his ripped jeans.

Donatello tensed, spying the pistol grip and subtly shook his head. 'Don't,' he thought. 'Don't even try it, please.' The ninja took a step back, raising a placating hand. It was the first time he'd seen firearms on a Purple Dragon. This could get really nasty, really quickly because this boy looked extremely jumpy.

Donatello's retreat however had the opposite effect he was hoping for. Instead of running the youth pulled the gun and clumsily aimed at him, a streak of misguided boldness undoubtedly controlling his actions.

"You don't want to do that."

"I think I do," the Purple Dragon breathed.

Although it didn't show, Donatello's heart was hammering in his breast. He hadn't lived this long to have his life snatched away from him by some frightened child with a gun. "No-"

He never got a chance to finish. The youth squeezed the trigger and Donatello closed the gap between them just in time to grab his arm as the gun went off. There was an ear-splitting crack and bang that left the mutant partially deafened as the Purple Dragon's gun wielding hand was hoisted over his shoulder. The skylight above them shattered and rained down bitter shards over the pair of them. An angered yell escaped before he could stop himself.

"GAH'D- DAMN IT! You stupid, ignorant, lousy little punk! I am so freaking sick of this!"

He wrenched the youth's wrist and the boy yelped as the pistol dropped from his hand. It clattered down beside them. "Why don't you ever listen to me? Any of you?! Do you know who is most likely to be killed with a gun? You or one of your friends, you got me?!" Donatello growled, giving him a firm shake.

Too shocked to even speak the boy shivered a nod.

Disgusted Donatello threw the youth away from him with a shake of his head. "Why don't you do yourself a favour, go home, go back to school. Don't waste your life looking for easy money or whatever with the Purple Dragons. They are simply not worth it," he glanced up, face now a mask of resigned acceptance. "Is any of this getting through to you? Or am I just wasting my breath?"

The boy just stared back but there seemed to be something ticking away at the back of his mind. Good. That was enough. Food for thought.

"Go on, get out of here," Donatello uttered.

The youth scrambled to his feet, barely glancing at his fallen so called friends as he turned and fled the building. With any luck he wouldn't see him again. It would be nice, for a change.

Donatello snatched the gun off the floor and ejected the magazine. He didn't want any of the other youths to get a hold of it. He'd dispose of it later, safely. Tucking it away, he then picked his way through the dazed Purple Dragons, smashed the fire alarm cover and pulled the lever. A loud ring suddenly cut through the stirring stillness. Summoning the Fire Department always brought the police in their wake in this neighbourhood. He'd give these youths a chance to rethink their futures, next time he'd let the police have them. He left them unbound.

Only a moment later Donatello was outside and scaling the opposite building. Reaching the roof, he peered over the rooftops now hearing the distant blare of a siren. Time to leave. The mutant holstered his weapon and took off the way he'd originally come.

He'd only gone topside to clear his thoughts and air out his clouded senses. The lair had been beginning to stifle him. He'd used to go out every night but now, it was only every other night. His increasing years and ageing body had slowly started to conspire against him. It was bound to happen sooner or later, caused by the nature of his lifestyle and upbringing. He could feel the early onset of arthritis that ached dully in his limbs after each night of patrolling, especially in his arms and wrists, no doubt brought on by the use of his favoured weapon and oldest friend. His staff, it was the only constant thing in his life. He always needed a day to recover from an active night before. Already he was feeling the nagging groan of pain ripple through his joints. Two nights in a row was never a good idea, he would pay for these exertions later he just knew it.

Donatello had been on his own for ten years now. Splinter had gifted his last son with the title of Ninja Master several years before he passed away. That had been hard. Loosing his father, the last living member of his family. He didn't leave his bed for a week after he'd laid Splinter to rest. He didn't see the point of getting up. What did he have left? He'd almost given up and then something wrenched him out of his selfish hopelessness. He'd heard rustling on the floor of his bedroom and a weak roll of his head revealed his reason to keep going, to keep on living. Spike, Raphael's pet turtle. The poor thing had been nosing around for food. Donatello had been caring for him throughout the years but upon Splinter's death he'd forgotten all about him. Donatello was certain that his hot headed brother would never have forgiven him if he'd left Spike all alone to starve. So, for his brother's sake and his own sanity he left that bed and lived.

Ten blocks from the break-in he'd left behind, Donatello stopped once more, easing his breathing into a steady rhythm as his limbs began protesting again. Blast it! He was only forty-five! He thought he'd have until his late fifties before this sort of thing would creep up upon him. But then again he was a mutant, not a human. He had no idea how his mutated body would react to this rather common human ailment, despite his constant research. It seemed the only answer was to just wait and see. He idly flexed his dominant left hand, hissing out his discomfort as he stared into the distance. He had to get back home. He'd been out long enough and the cold was starting to get him, hence the hooded scarf he now habitually wore, inside and out. The chill ate into his muscles; it was the only enemy he truly feared now, the seizing of his limbs.

Donatello breathed out, creating an icy cloud giving one the impression that he was an old dragon looking over the kingdom he strove to protect. The whisper of landing feet a short distance behind him would have been lost on anyone not trained in the art of ninjitsu. When one was alone they had to watch their own back, it was a lesson that Splinter had taught his son well. He heard the gentle breathing, light and unhampered. Donatello knew whom it was without even having to turn around. He remained still and calm and continued to stare straight ahead.

"What do you want, Karai?"


	11. 'Last Turtle Standing'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The showdown..... ;)

"Well, well, well, it does appear I have found the infamous 'Last Turtle Standing'."

Donatello gritted his teeth but didn't rise to the bait. She had a gift for that. "I'll ask you again Karai, what do you want?"

"To talk, what else?" Her voice cut through the night like a blade.

The mutant shook his head. "It's never that simple with you Karai."

"You know me too well," she laughed.

Her unnerving chuckle floated through the airs and Donatello's jaw set firm. He'd had enough of this. He had endured years of her constant taunting and all he wanted was for her to leave him alone, although he knew that wasn't going to happen, not after what he had done. In spite of that he allowed himself a smug smile of satisfaction. His brothers would have been proud.

"How are your new headquarters Karai? Cosy?"

He knew that had wiped the smile from her face because her still cocky voice became a sudden growl. "You dare to mock me Hamato Donatello?!"

"Makes a nice change," he uttered flatly.

" _Look up!_ Look up and face me you insolent freak!"

Don shook his head. "I am not one of your soldiers to command Karai. I am my own master and I certainly do not answer to you."

"You are as stubborn as that girl you once coveted," the elegant woman hissed.

The turtle's features twitched in sudden regret but it was soon lost. "Good," finally he stood, feeling his bones click as he did so with a wince. He sure hoped Karai didn't notice. "I am your equal Karai and you will speak to me as such."

"Says the physically weakest of his brothers," Karai said cruelly. "How you managed to survive that slaughter is still beyond me."

Donatello silenced his threatening growl. He should never of told her. At sixteen years he had left the lair after what had seemed the longest time and she had found him, threatened to take him hostage to lure his brothers out of hiding as she saw it. He had lost it and told her that Baxter Stockman had beaten her to it. They were dead. She'd laughed, thinking it a joke to begin with but the fierce fight that followed had soon convinced her otherwise. She had used it as fodder against him ever since.

"Physicality had nothing to do with it."

"And it sure wasn't your brilliant mind either," Karai further goaded. "It was luck, pure, blind, stupid luck."

The mutant inhaled deeply, keeping his suddenly simmering temper in check. It was times like this that he felt like his brother Raphael. It was certainly reflected in the stance his six foot four frame held, poised upon the parapet wall.

"You couldn't save them but you saved yourself, that is just cowardly."

"Save your poison Karai-"

She ignored him. "And my heart felt condolences for you master," she uttered dryly and without a shred of sincerity.

Donatello felt himself bristle. "You're about ten years late Karai-"

Again the kunoichi was determined to not let him finish. "What was it he died of again? Old age? Senility? Or a broken heart?"

The mutant glowered at his feet, fists balling at his sides. "Cancer," he whispered.

"Huh, so just someone else you failed to save."

That last hurtful comment did it. Donatello spun about. "Enough Karai! I am sick to death of this!" He spat.

A smooth smile slipped across Karai's features. "Finally, it's about time I got a rise out of you."

"Stop playing goddamn games with me! Tell me what you want or just stay the hell away!"

Karai smirked and took a step forward, a split second later a sai stabbed in the roofing by her feet. A slight intake of breath issued from her lips and her amber gaze snapped up. She swiftly regained her composure and carried on as if she'd had never been startled. "Cute," she uttered.

"I'm serious," Donatello said lowly. "You got something to say then say it."

Karai's flawless features slipped into a frown. "Fine, I do believe we have some unfinished business do we not?"

The red tint to Donatello's eyes glittered in the moonlight and a knowing scowl passed across his scarred face. "I believe we have," he conceded.

"I want this dispute to be over because quite frankly I'm tired of chasing you."

"That makes two of us."

Karai sneered but continued on. "I propose a duel, a final duel."

At this Donatello raised an eye ridge. "A final duel? Meaning-?"

"Meaning that only one of us will walk away from it."

"You know I can't do that Karai," the mutant uttered. "I still have a promise to keep."

Karai suddenly grinned, a twinkle gleaming at the back of her eyes. She kept a steady gaze on Donatello. "What would you say if I said you can do the duel and could still keep your promise?"

"I'd say you were playing games with me again," Donatello jumped from the wall and stalked up to Karai, easily towering over the mature woman that she had become, raven hair cropped short about her shoulders in a sharp bob. He noted the flinch that she desperately tried to conceal and paused before her. She looked younger than her years unlike himself who bore every trial of his life in every scar upon his body and crinkle in his face. And he felt it, he felt old and he was tired so very, very tired. "I'm done with you Karai," he said simply. He yanked his brother's sai from the roofing and tucked it away as he carried on to the opposite side of the building.

"I know where he is Donatello."

"Know where who is?" He uttered dismissively as he walked on.

"Baxter Stockman."

The turtle froze mid-step. She had his attention now. "How could you possibly know where he is? The man is a ghost."

"Not yet he isn't."

Donatello swept around to face the woman once more. "I swear on the names of my brothers Karai, if you are lying to me-"

"He's set up shop in a the abandoned TCRI building."

"I have scouted that damned building spire to basement countless times. What makes you think that Stockman is even there?"

"Because that's where I saw him."

Donatello's features lost the sudden aggression and for a moment he looked puzzled. He then glared at Karai suspiciously. "Why would you even tell me this?"

Karai never missed a beat. "Stockman will create a potential thorn in my side and I need rid of him swiftly," the turtle frowned again. "And I know that what your heart truly desires is retribution, revenge. I know you will not refuse my offer."

Donatello folded his arms across his plastron, reflecting the stance that his oldest brother had often took when he was waiting for a damn fine explanation. "The offer being?"

"Dispose of Stockman for me and our final duel will be just that, final. Then all of this, this existence that you currently live will be over and you will have no other worries, you can return to your brothers and," here her smile took on a disturbing quality. "Rest in peace."

"You make it sound as if I have no other purpose in my life. You think I will take out Stockman and then just lay down and die for you? If that is what you're thinking Karai, then you are very sorely mistaken," Donatello's features remained stoic and hard as he stared down the fellow ninja. "I won't do your dirty work for you Karai, find someone else because I want to leave this mortal coil with clean hands," with that he turned with a new destination set in his mind.

"Donatello! Refuse my offer and I will have Stockman tipped off. He'll be long gone before you even reach TCRI and you'll spend the rest of your miserable life playing this pathetic cat and mouse game, blowing up every building he finds refuge in until either one or both of you end up in the ground!"

The movement was too quick to follow and taken by her anger, Karai failed to react before the giant mutant turtle had seized her by one arm and had a familiar katana blade pressed up against her throat. "Tell me Karai, how will you be able to do that if I end your life right here, right now like you would do to me if you had half a chance?" He could read the sudden alarm in her eyes but it faded in the blink of one.

"But you won't," she said knowingly.

Donatello snarled, a wild fire blazing inside and pulled Karai closer into his brother's sword. What sounded like a frightened gasp escaped and that solitary, quiet sound, barely a whisper on the airs broke the spell that seemed to hold him. "No, you're right Karai because I'm not like you," he threw her away from him.

He noted the thin stream of red the coursed down the edge of his brother's blade and his breath hitched suddenly. He snatched the edge of his scarf and quickly wiped down the sharp steel, catching his fingers more than once. He was trembling. He sucked in a shaky breath as his own blood created minute rivers across his callused digits. He shut his eyes and tried to get a hold on himself. The memories of the past were starting to flare at the back of his mind and he struggled to push them back down.

Damn it. How long would he be hunting Stockman if he didn't take up Karai's offer? Till the day that he died, just like she said.

For a moment he stood, regarding the narrow streak of red that grazed the pale skin of her perfect throat. He sucked in another breath, this one slow and accepting. What other choice did he have? "Fine," he finally uttered. "Show me where he is Karai."

XXXX

Forty floors up and stars twinkling in through the floor to ceiling windows, Donnie cast his gaze across to the shadows where he had left Karai. This was an abandoned office floor. This didn't seem to be the place where a power hungry mad scientist would set up his hideout, or was it? Not for the first time he wondered if the conniving woman was just setting him up.

Donatello's eyes were suddenly drawn to the long mirrored wall that stretched across the far end of the large room which he had initially missed at first, the simple illusion of size temporarily throwing him off. "Nice one Don," he muttered under his breath. Someone of his intellect fooled by a stupid mirror! He was loosing his touch in his advancing years obviously, he thought as he approached the glass barrier.

He pressed a large bandaged hand against the smooth, cool surface and wondered for an instant if the mirror was a two-way. Well, if it was and Stockman happened to be on the other side watching him, stealth had just been rendered pointless. He would have to be careful.

The turtle stepped back considering his next move when something strange happened to his reflection. It distorted and shimmered like liquid mercury almost as if it were melting…

In a split second he felt a wave of heat wash over him and instantly the mutant dived to the side with an annoyed curse slipping from his mouth as only a split second later the mirror split and shattered in an explosion of heat and flames. Well, it was clear that the element of surprise had gone out the window and proved that the mirror was indeed a two way.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered under his breath, wincing as he finally stood letting the malformed shards cascade off his shell in a tinkling chorus.

"Finally tracked me down, have you Donatello?" A familiar but oddly synthesized voice taunted from the space beyond the mirror.

Donatello frowned and cautiously crept toward the gaping hole, holding his trusted bo to the ready.

"It's going to take more than a stick to defeat me turtle."

Donatello stopped dead and a shocked gasp slipped from his lips as he found the owner of the voice. It was Baxter Stockman but not as he remembered him. At first he thought it was the Stockman pod that he was staring at until he realised it was so much more than that. Trying to fight the deterioration of his own increasing years, Baxter had devised a way to keep his own aging body strong. Standing before Don was what remained of the man he once knew, with limbs fused directly with wires and metal was what Mikey would have named the Stockman Cyborg.

"Stockman, what have you done?" He whispered to himself, shocked by what he saw but also in awe at the older scientist's accomplishment.

"I guess it's time to finish what I started all those years ago," the Stockman Cyborg chuckled disturbingly.

A scowl darkened Donatello's features and he summoned the naginata blade. "You can try Stockman," he growled.

The flame-thrower that had shattered the glass was raised in the old mutant's direction and he tensed. Several vital seconds ticked by as Don's astute gaze scrutinised everything the cyborg body could be capable of, looking for a flaw, a chink in the armour that he could use to his own advantage. Then a stream of fire roared in his way and he dropped and rolled to the left out of harms way. He barely had time to breathe when he heard what sounded like the ominous crackle of a small electrical cannon. A moment later a laser blast scorched the floor next to him. Red brown eyes widened and snapped up to his attacker who grinned at him devilishly.

"Seriously?" He cried incredulously. "Seriously Stockman?!" Donatello sprang back to his feet and snarled at the cyborg scientist. "All these years and this is all you can come up with? Lasers and fire?! Even I expected you to be a little more imaginative than that!"

"I have blades if you want," the Stockman Cyborg uttered unpleasantly. A metal clad hand was levelled at the turtle and two spinning blades were released from an internal mechanism and sent spinning viciously through the airs, cutting the invisible static in-between them.

Once more Don was forced to dodge and slide across the way, vaulting over desks and knocking computers and monitors to the floor as the biting metal whisked over his head missing him by a hair breadth. He ducked down behind one of the desks and his breath shivered in and out as the death of his brothers echoed through his ears. His scrunched his eyes closed and hugged an arm across his chest as the sudden flashback rocked him to the core. For the longest time Donatello had managed to suppress the vision which in the past had given him horrific nightmares that kept him from sleeping on many a night. Now they returned harsh and clear bringing with them the burning of forming tears. The blades the spinning blades and the blood that followed. "Oh god," he whimpered. "Oh god."

"Hiding will not help you turtle, your end is inevitable and I will be the one to take it!"

"Why?" Donatello uttered mournfully. "You killed my brothers, y-you killed April," a painful lump swelled in his throat. "You killed April damn you! Why?!"

There was a notable silence and Stockman's voice suddenly screeched through his voice synthesizer. "You mocked me! You ridiculed and laughed at me. You turned me into a laughing stock!"

"And for that my brothers deserved to die? What is wrong with you?!"

"You can only push a man so far until he breaks," the scientist growled.

"We were fifteen years old, children. We were children damn it! And April, April had nothing to do with your damned vendetta! She was an innocent! We all were innocents!"

"She was with you, an ally that was enough."

The ninja master quivered with barely concealed rage behind his cover. "You're a monster Stockman!" Don yelled before he could stop himself. "A MONSTER!" He screamed.

"You're making this too easy," the Stockman Cyborg clucked darkly. The blade mechanism was engaged again and two more of the metal nightmares were released.

Hearing the close proximity Don snapped out of his grief and lunged forward, flattening himself against the floor as the blades smashed through the desk in an explosion of wood, splinters and office equipment finally embedding themselves in a supporting pillar a short distance in front of him. He'd lost his focus. He'd let his emotions get the better of him. Well, enough of this madness. He needed to get up close and personal, otherwise he was going to get picked off by one of Stockman's long range weapons sooner or later because his aching limbs were starting to groan in protest.

As debris shifted and broken glass crunched underfoot, Donatello slipped past the Stockman Cyborg and silently as a slip of satin in the wind, he came up behind the metal monstrosity. A quick examination and the mutant had a plan.

Don chose his moment and leapt up Raphael's sai in hand and snagged the shaft under the outer wiring that ran from the Stockman Cyborg's neck to the helmet. A sharp tug and there was a subsequent scream, followed by a shower of stinging electrical sparks.

"What have you done?!" Stockman screeched. Thick armoured limbs thrashed about wildly and the robotic form wheeled about.

Donatello released his grip and jumped clear as the vulnerable wiring proved to be  
as vital a component as he had suspected.

Howling, unable to control the erratic movement of his suddenly errant limbs, Stockman staggered sideways and glared across as his attacker. "You'll pay for that!"

Donatello stood his ground. "Like my brothers paid?"

The cyborg scowled and somehow managed to push his body forward. A telescopic arm suddenly shot out missing its target glanced off the hard floor where its reaching claws embedded themselves in a supporting pillar.

"Damn it!"

Stockman yanked backed but his disobedient limbs conspired against him. They whipped everywhere except where he commanded them. His left arm snagged the telescopic appendage and a sharp edge instantly severed it from the rest of the metallic body. As the cyborg scientist had been leaning back to free it the sudden cut of his involuntary anchor had him tipping dangerously backwards. He tripped over a desk and his fate was suddenly sealed. The window beckoned and gravity grabbed him and smashed him through it.

Donatello started, for a moment shocked at the chain reaction that he had inadvertently started. When the Stockman Cyborg crashed through the glass panic sudden swept through him and he jolted forward. "NO!"

Stockman's electronic howl speared through the ageing ninja as he darted to the edge and stared. He was helpless to do anything as the mad man reached hopeless up at a non-existent ledge to grab but there was nothing but air, cold night air that whistled past his modified body. The end was abrupt as the fall was dizzying and Donatello instantly flinched and looked away.

And unexpected lump bubbled in the back of his throat and the mutant looked back down. A sudden rush of mixed emotions erupted forth and Donatello couldn't stop himself. "You idiot," he murmured. "YOU IDIOT! How could you do this to me?! You arrogant, clumsy fool!" The strength left his legs and he sank to his knees with a crunch in the glass, hand pressed against his face. He would never get his justice now, not how he envisioned it. He never wanted Stockman dead; he wanted him incarcerated for the rest of his natural life. No. He felt cheated. Robbed. Tears threatened but there was no time to let them fall as he heard the soft footsteps land behind him. He didn't react.

"Bravo Donatello, bravo," Karai's voice seemed to mock.

"You could've warned me," he uttered tonelessly, still looking down.

"Where would the fun be in that?"

"Ho yes," Don laughed bitterly. "I'd forgotten whom I was talking to for a second," he went on dryly. "I mistook you for someone who actually gives a damn."

He didn't know what expression had took the woman's features but he heard the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn. "Let's finish this."

The cold tone was nothing new but it still caused icy fingers to trace down the core of his spine. Slowly Donatello stood, broken glass shifting and flaking off his thick leather kneepads as he did so. He reached for the scabbard on his shell, drawing Leonardo's katana and holding it low, still facing the night skies before him. "By all means Karai," he uttered. "Ladies first."

The ninja master knew the woman wouldn't attack until he turned around. The one thing Karai did possess was honour he would give her that. The mutant turtle shifted slowly, hooded head down but bright eyes gleaming from the cowl straight at his opponent. Their gazes met, chestnut red connected with glinting amber. A second passed and Karai attacked.

Donatello met the blow head on and caught the weapons at cross blades. He would never be as skilled as Leonardo had been. The katana wasn't his chosen weapon but in memory of him, in memory of all of them he had had Splinter teach him how to use each of his beloved brothers' weapons and he always carried one of each pair with him. That way they would always be there to watch over him, he didn't feel so alone. He could almost feel their spirits when he used them, guiding his actions helping him make the right decisions.

With a soft grunt of effort, the mutant threw Karai away who immediately swept back, catching him in his already scarred upper left arm. He hissed out an exclamation of pain but quickly shook it off as he countered the following attack. Blades clashed several times over and each move screamed in the turtle's already aching limbs but he pushed past it; shoved through it to force his skilled assailant back. The last thing he wanted was to be forced through the gaping hole where Stockman had greeted his doom. He'd be damned if he shared that monster's fate.

Karai suddenly swept across with a low kick and unprepared Donatello felt his legs knocked out from beneath him. He hit the floor with a heavy crunch and lay dazed for half second before his instincts kicked in as the woman started to loom over him. His right foot came up and caught her in the stomach. She released a surprised breath and he seized her arms as he launched her up and over him. There was a cry of alarm followed by a subsequent scream of disbelief.

"NO!"

Don rolled onto his front just in time to see Karai sail straight out of the gaping hole in the window. He never hesitated as he whipped out Michelangelo's kusarigama chain and threw it out of the window after Karai. What decision would she make? Was she really prepared to meet her end? The chain snapped taut and Donatello braced himself. He heard a dull thud as someone bumped into the glass of the floor below. No, she wasn't. His face set grim and his muscles screeching for relief from the abuse he'd just put them through, Don hauled Karai back to safety hand over hand.

As Karai reached the top Don grabbed her by the scruff of her uniform and dragged her back to solid ground where upon he unceremoniously dropped her. For a moment he regarded her as she lay panting from the shock of her unexpected ordeal. "You know something Karai?" He uttered. "When you said 'Final Duel' I actually believed you."

The old mutant turned and began to stalk away, almost disgusted.

"You-you shouldn't have thrown me the chain," Karai grated.

Don turned back briefly. "You, didn't have to grab it," he said simply. "Come back and find me when you are actually prepared to die Karai."

The woman said nothing. With a gravely sigh Donatello turned and left, leaving Karai to ponder the reason why she grabbed the lifeline he'd thrown her only moments before.


	12. 'Demolition'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving it along now my dear readers. :) 2 chapters to go!

So much had happened in the past few hours but entering the lair it felt as if nothing had changed. The arcade machines still bleeped and buzzed and the silence still screamed back at him. It was done. He'd finished what he'd set out to do all those years ago… Well, almost. There was still one thing left to do but for now it could wait.

Although exhausted beyond words, the first thing Don did was enter the dojo. He approached the shrine on the far wall. He replaced his brothers' weapons reverently on their display pegs, fingers lingering over the tessen the hung gracefully beside them. He sank slowly to the ground, feeling the presence of his missing family and bowed his head. "It is done my brothers," he whispered. "April," the last name caused his voice to crack. He winced and shook it off, time enough for that later he told himself.

He stayed there a moment longer, almost feeling the walls of the dojo press in around him. A second later he couldn't take anymore and jolted to his feet. He strode out of the chamber, valiantly trying to leave his demons behind him. His limbs aching chronically, Donatello knew of only one remedy that although not lasting would take immediate effect for some short-term relief. He turned on the shower.

When heat caused steam to rise, Don entered the shower. He instantly savoured the feeling of the hot water that pounded against his shell and streamed across the back of his neck and shoulders, coursing swiftly down his well muscled body and slowly easing the tight knots and nagging pains that had started to plague him that night. His eyes slid shut and he tilted his head back allowing the purifying water to wash away his worries, his fears, his pains if only for a little while.

He had no idea how long he stayed in that shower but time seemed absolutely meaningless. It was with great reluctance that he left that blissful oblivion of warmth and reality returned to him with an unwelcome bump. For a moment he paused in the centre of the main living area, eyes drifting sadly around him before he spotted Spike. With a faint smile he scooped the old turtle up.

"C'mon little buddy, let's check over those plans huh?"

Moments later with Spike on the workbench next to him, Donatello started to examine the schematics in front of him. Eyes narrowed in deep concentration as his large fingers traced over the papers with a pencil making marks and notes, muttering under his breath as his thoughts pushed forward to become vocal. After what seemed like an age, Don put his pencil down and rubbed his eyes as tiredness began to tug at them. In his youth he would have thrust through it and taken a generous dose of caffeine and carried on or fallen asleep at his desk depending on how immersed in his work he was but time and circumstance had changed all that.

Don sighed deeply and stared ahead his eyes deliberately snagging with an image of April. An unwelcome lump hitched in the back of his throat and he reached forward gingerly letting his fingers trace over the photograph, the edges curling with age. A wave of untold sadness swept through him, taking him by total surprise. He gasped a sob and pressed the hand to his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. Shaking his head, Don swivelled his computer chair around and shuddered for a few moments as he struggled to regain control of his bubbling emotions. 'Soon,' he thought, 'soon it will be done and your job will be over and they will be free.' The turtle shivered. 'Then you can find a new purpose, it's what your brothers would want, it's what April would want…' Donatello's eyes blinked open, his sight suddenly blurred with tears. He drew in a summoning breath, then another. The shuddering stopped and he brushed the wetness away. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night the last of his plans would be set in motion and the warehouse where this nightmare all began would be gone.

XXXX

Don had finally finished. He had worked throughout the day from seven in the morning and now it was nine o'clock at night. In the abandoned industrial area where his life had changed forever, the warehouse of horrors was at last to meet its end. Months, no, years of planning had lead to this moment and now the old warrior stood and regarded the sorry structure with a mixed combination of emotions. How was he supposed to feel anyway? Sad? Satisfied? Pleased or relieved? None seemed appropriate but there was something though, something that subtly shifted forward and leant against his conflicted heart. The more he focussed on it the stronger it became and Don found himself leaning heavily on his staff double handed. Regret. There was so much regret, never mind the guilt. He'd been mired down by guilt for the best part of a lifetime. So many things left undone. So many things left unsaid. So many things that had had needed to be spoken.

Donatello stared at the ground momentarily, fingers flexing about the shaft of his bo. It was hard not to recall the naive, shy teenager that had not been able to voice his thoughts for fear of rejection from way back when. He shouldn't of let the interruption stop him. He should of just said it then and there and be damned by what his brothers would of thought of it. At least then, April would of known how he felt and he wouldn't of been caught in this awful limbo that he currently found himself in. An unrequited love that was never spoken hurt just as much as the loss he had suffered. It ate at him practically everyday. What would she have said? What would she have thought? Such horrible thoughts had plagued him for many years but now, he had managed to get past it, to an extent. Over all that time Don had come to one conclusion. He didn't care what she might have thought. He didn't care if she didn't reciprocate the same sentiment back. If April had just known his feelings that would have been enough.

The words bubbled up his throat before he could stop them rising and tears welled shamelessly in his chestnut eyes. "I love you April. I always have, and I always will," Don reached into the bag hitched over his shoulder and picked out a familiar grey box with a red button. He shuddered back a sob as he stared down at the detonator, the 'flowers' he had given to April all that time ago. He bit down on his trembling bottom lip, taking a deep breath in through his nose to try to calm himself. His hands were shaking. Don squeezed his eyes shut and then looked up at the derelict warehouse a safe distance in front of him. He let out a shivering sigh as the tears finally escaped his glistening eyes. He flipped the primer switch, activating the explosives and his thumb hovered over the red button. He glanced back at the doomed building and murmured. "This is for you all, I miss you my father, my brothers, my April," with that he pressed button.

Within moments the explosions began. Donatello had set up the carefully planned demolition so that only five intricately connected explosives were needed to bring the building down. This he had done deliberately, each one was dedicated to a loved one he had lost. One final big send off for his dearly missed family.

BOOM! Splinter. Sensei. Father.

BOOM! Leonardo. The leader. The big brother.

BOOM! Raphael. The loyal. The older brother.

BOOM! Michelangelo. The innocent. The keeper of secrets. The baby brother.

KABOOM! April…. The One. Unrequited. The beloved.

Donatello felt his knees give way and he slid to the ground, the black and yellow ribbons tied about each upper arm snapping in the nightly breeze with the tassels of his scarf. He let his brow rest against his staff and finally let his sorrows go. The tears rolled thick and unrelenting, sobs heaving his already aching breast. This was it. This was the end. What was he to do now? What-

BOOM! KABOOM! BOOM!

Don's head snapped up. Just as the structure began to collapse more explosions rent the air. The force split more wood and metal beams, rubble and glass. He fell back on to his elbows as fire erupted and several more explosions were further triggered. Don stared at the smouldering wreckage as debris started to rain down about him. He had only set up five explosives where did these other unexpected ones come from? He certainly wasn't responsible for them. He'd checked the structure roof to foundations just to make sure there was nothing unexpected. How was this possible?

A smoking shard of metal suddenly streaked in front of him and lay smouldering in the dirt. Still recovering from the shock Donatello leant forward and tentatively picked up the heated object. He unfurled his fist and examined the burning fragment with astute eyes, then a horrifying explanation suddenly hit him and he started. Lying in the palm of his bandaged hand was a shuriken fragment. He had seen the design before and he knew exactly where it had come from.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" He uttered feverishly. A hiccup of a wretched sob tugged within his chest and he pressed his other hand to his mouth. He could have done it. He could have saved them all. The tears returned ever more thickly, blurring his vision and rendering him speechless.

If he'd only… If he'd just…

A flaming wooden plank suddenly tumbled from the heavens above and smashed mercilessly across the woebegone mutant's brow. In an instant his world went black and he knew no more.


	13. Look Up...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Just as a pre warning there is one heavy swear word in this chapter, just to let people know.))
> 
> Okay, here it comes. Second to last chapter of The Choice. Hold onto your shells my readers, this is the one you've been waiting for.
> 
> All right Donnie, it is time. It has been long enough. Look up my dear. Look up...

It came back slowly, the segments of wakefulness re-connecting his mind to his body. Donnie stirred and groaned and instinctively brought a hand to his throbbing head. How long had he been out? It was dangerous to be out in the open, especially if it had been all night. Immediately he pushed himself up, finding it a whole lot easier than he had done in the longest time. Finally he opened his eyes and the first sight they fell upon was his hands. He frowned in confusion. They looked years younger, not callused or scarred and supple, they were free and unhampered from the aches and pain of his arthritis. He rotated his wrists and shook his head in disbelief. What the hell was going on? Another thought sprang to mind and his hands felt up his upper arms. His remembrance ribbons were missing and his hooded scarf, where had it gone? His bo staff lying just before him was just bandaged plainly, not with the multicolour that he had adopted blue, red, orange and yellow.

At this point poor Donatello started to hyperventilate. Where was he? What had happened to him? Then he heard it. A familiar mechanical squeal. Frightened eyes slowly rolled up and the sight he saw caused him to cry out in sheer panic. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO!"

Donnie fell back as the sudden realisation of where he was and what must have happened hit him full force. But it couldn't be, it had to be some sick joke, but if it was he certainly wasn't laughing. He was back where he started. Back before it all began to go terribly wrong. The whole time he must have had been living in his head. How was that even possible? None of it had happened but, but it had felt so real. Even now he could remember the fight he had with Karai, the very words he had said to her. He recalled every detail.

Just as before the Mousers encircled him, red eyes gleaming and watching his every move. He was mere seconds away from their attack. He swallowed painfully, his mouth suddenly drier than a desert. He still couldn't quite wrap his head round it. An aggressive squeal erupted in front of him and Donnie snatched up his bo, summoning the naginata with shaking hands. He fumbled the shaft as the Mousers began their assault and unlike before Don was completely caught off his guard. His mind a mess and his nerves shot the young ninja swung his weapon wide and desperately tried to fend off the metal monsters baying for his blood.

XXXX

Mikey woke with a groggy like groan and a hand drifted to his brow. It felt as if his head was filled with rocks, big grinding rocks that scraped the interior of his skull with their gritty surface. Someone grabbed his shoulders and hauled him upright, propping him against what must have been a wall.

"You okay Mikey?"

Michelangelo blinked blurry eyes, a fuzzy image of blue and green slowly coming into focus. "Yea-yeah, I think so," he uttered as Leonardo's form became clear. "What happened? Where are we?"

"We're still trying to figure that out but April's here."

"She is? Where?" His sights darted around until his big brother pointed her out.

"She's over there."

Mikey glanced across, only then noticing their surroundings. Across the way was a great glass cylinder suspended to the ceiling, which he guessed was much like the one they were in. April's hands were pressed against the walls of her clear prison staring across at all of them. He pressed his hands against the glass and looked up examining the ominous metal looking fan above their head. He didn't like this; he didn't like this at all. He glanced back at his brothers and only then realised that one of them was missing. "Donnie! Where's Donnie?"

"We don't know," Raphael grumbled back, pounding his large fist against the cylinder's walls. "We woke up and he was just gone and we were here."

"We need to get out of here, I'm getting bad vibes from this tube prison thing dudes."

"I'm working on it," Leo responded, not without a hint of irritation in his voice.

At that moment a great sliding door, (which none of the captives had noticed because of an optical illusion that made the barrier seem invisible due the metallic quality of the chamber), suddenly began to descend. A series of aggressive electronic squeals filtered into the room and everyone stared down. A second later a ragged figure marred in red cuts and gashes dived through the opening before it slammed into the floor.

For several seconds the figure crouched there shaking with shock and fatigue, the bandages about his hands and ankles tattered and torn, stained with blossoms of crimson. He still faced the door. Mikey pressed himself closer to the glass. "Donnie," he whispered. He slammed a fist against the glass as his brothers joined him. "Donnie!" He shouted.

He was never heard as Stockman's voice issued from out of nowhere and addressed his injured brother down below. Every line issued seemed to mock his poor sibling who seemed struck rigid hugging his staff to his chest. He seemed absolutely terrified. That wasn't like Donatello. Surely something like this wouldn't have intimidated him so much. It was only Dexter Spackboy after all. They'd defeated him every time they encountered him. There wasn't a doubt in Mikey's mind that wouldn't get out of this trap.

"…I watched you long enough to discover something interesting about you…I chose you Donatello to play this Game of Doom. I designed it just for you, would you like to see it?"

Mikey watched his brother carefully. He appeared to be taking deeper and deeper breaths. His body was shuddering as if trying to suppress- something…

"Not even the slightest bit curi-"

Donnie spun about. "I just wish you'd fucking get on with it!" He yelled at the ceiling.

Mikey blinked and swapped shocked gazes with his other two brothers. "He didn't learn that word off you, did he Raph?"

Raph glowered back. "As if I would use words like that around him, I'm smarter than that Mikey."

Although unseen, Stockman seemed somewhat taken aback. He recovered his composure quickly, sounding affronted from Donatello's outburst. "Very well, let me furnish you with the rules, they're quite simple. All you have to do is make a choice."

Donnie, seemingly already way ahead of the mad scientist, shook his head in denial. "N-no, not again, no."

Mikey frowned even as his brothers began pounding on the glass to get Donnie's attention. He could hear his tall sibling quite clearly. He was scared, he was sooo scared it was unreal and it sent a nervous shiver trembling down his spine.

"Yes, the choice is do you save your brothers, or-," there was a deliberate pause from their captor. "Your girlfriend."

Mikey's pale blue eyes widened. The youngest brother shook his head as poor Donnie looked between the their tubes with a fist pressed to his mouth. "No," Mikey uttered. He punched at the glass and shouted to the ceiling. "He can't make a choice like that!"

"There is of course a catch. There is a simple release mechanism at the bottom of each of the containers. However if you spring one, you will set off the other booby trap, so choose carefully because you will only get one chance."

Upon hearing this Raph seemed to loose it. He pounded at the glass and started shouting obscenities that would make a soldier blush.

"Raph! That isn't helping!" Leonardo snapped. "This isn't the time for that!"

"Then tell me what is fearless leader!"

"We got to figure a way to get out of here."

"Our weapons are gone Leo, so unless you have a spare katana up your shell I'd say we were pretty screwed don't you?!"

"Guys shut it!" Mikey blurted out. "Spaxboy is only giving Donnie a minute to decide who to save!"

"Perfect!"

"Shut up Raph!"

The argument seemed to go on behind him much to Mikey's dismay.

"You have a sick mind Stockman!"

Michelangelo's eyes snapped back down to Donnie, icy fingers slowly tracing up his spine.

"Oh, did I mention if you fail to make a decision the traps trigger themselves when the clock reaches zero. The results will be twice as messy!"

For a moment his arguing brothers seemed to refocus and Raphael was swearing at Stoxsmen again. Vowing to do well, unsavoury things to him if he ever got out of this. Leo was banging on the glass and shouting Donnie's name and Mikey just stood at a temporary loss of what to do. Donatello's mind seemed to be in shambles, Michelangelo could tell from his expression that his poor brother didn't know what to do. If there was only something he could do but their weapons had been taken away from them. They had nothing to use to get out.

The clock began and Mikey's eyes flicked toward it and he tensed. He had a fair idea of what would happen if everything went wrong. A horrible, bloody mess that was what would happen, the thought alone made him sick, he paled and leant helplessly against the walls of his prison. It was only when certain words echoing from beyond his hopelessness entered his hearing that he looked back down at Donnie frowning curiously. Something about what he was saying to Stockman was terrible familiar…

"How can I?"

"It's easy. One or two?"

"I can't!"

"You must, or you know what happens."

"Free them now!"

"The clock is still ticking."

"Damn you!"

Mikey blinked and suddenly remembered why it was so familiar. This was what he heard, whilst poor Donnie was sleeping. He didn't know how it was possible that Donnie could of dreamt this but it was happening and in a flash Michelangelo understood that harrowed, frightened expression that his older brother had greeted him with. They must have died, in his dream. All of them. Mikey didn't understand how Donnie could've have dreamt all of this, not once but several times, each time more worse than the last. He had to stop this because he was the only one who knew what was truly going on. The clock was ticking. How though? With only seconds to go? They all had their weapons taken away from them. Mikey deflated as he pressed a hand to his belt where his nunchaku would have been. It was only as his hand pressed harder that his eyes widened. He slipped his fingers under the waistband and gasped. He'd almost forgotten, there was no time to waste.

Although his brothers were already hammering the glass walls, Mikey desperately slammed his fists alongside them. "Donnie! DONNIE!"

Donatello had to hear them; he had to tear his brother away from the conversation that Daxter Spoxman was distracting him with. There was no time for this. No time for any of it.

"Donnie! Look up! Donnie! For the love of pizza please LOOK UP!"

And then, miracle of miracles, Donnie's eyes flitted up toward him. His heart leapt and his jabbed a finger at the glass to the adjacent cylinder. "Get April Donnie! Free April!"

Leonardo and Raphael suddenly stopped their hammering and stared at Mikey incredulously. He ignored them as he stared intently at Donnie as he shook his head in panic.

"I-I can't!" He shouted back.

Mikey shook his head. "GET HER!" With that he pressed the flat of his hand against the glass and showed Donnie what he held. He pointed to April again and Donnie with a shocked expression managed a nod.

Elated, Mikey counted him down. "Three, two, one," he tapped the glass again toward April.

"Hey Mikey, ya wanna let us in on the plan?"

"No time!" Michelangelo snapped back at his hotheaded brother.

He watched as Donnie threw his staff at the underside of April's cylinder. As it connected Mikey revealed the object in his hand and threw it straight up.

"Mikey stop!"

"NO!"

A second later the clock reached zero and the blades above began to buzz.

XXXX

The moment he entered that chamber, when he heard Stockman's voice something inside poor Donnie snapped. Up until that moment when he fell unconscious in the Mousers' chamber, Donatello hadn't swore a day in his life. When the mad scientist mocked him he couldn't hold back. He'd felt he'd been through this same nightmare goodness knew how many times. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. He couldn't stand there and wait. Although the moment the words passed his throat he instantly regretted it.

Stockman continued on in a much more affronted and annoyed tone as it started all over again. No matter how many times he tried not to, it was like deja vu. He couldn't stop the same words tumbling from his mouth. It was as if he was always meant to say them. His panic rose, his ears buzzed and his mind span. He couldn't let this happen again. It was as it he'd been given a second chance and he couldn't squander it. The timer was now counting down and he could hear the desperate calls and hammering of fists on glass, but his eyes were fixed on that godforsaken timer and he couldn't stop the confounded pointless conversation with Baxter. It was all spiralling away from him and he couldn't stop. Then two words from above met his ears and he froze.

"Look up…! LOOK UP!"

The two words circulated his thoughts for half a second. Those words, they had been in his dream and had been spoken by everyone around him. Again and again and he'd dismissed them all until-until…

Without further hesitation he looked up and caught eyes with Mikey.

"Get April Donnie! Free April!"

Donnie's chest tightened eyes briefly flicking across to April and then back again. He couldn't, he'd start the trap in his brothers' cylinder. He shook his head clumsily as if he were drunk. "I-I can't!" He cried desperately back.

"GET HER!"

His younger brother then pressed the flat on his hand against the glass and a choked gasp caught in his throat. It couldn't be. Where-? When did Mikey-? It didn't matter. Donatello managed a stiff nod and his sibling counted him down.

When Michelangelo tapped the glass, Donnie hefted his staff and didn't hesitate. He threw it at the underside of April's tube. There was a dull thud as it connected and then a loud click. Donatello's heart was in his throat as the hatch dropped and with a startled cry April fell.

He closed the distance in a fraction of a second and the redhead was suddenly in his arms. April immediately wrapped her arms about his neck, burying her face under his chin as she clung to him. Donnie's reaction was immediate, as it was instinctive. He pressed her warm, trembling body against his, arms across her shoulders so he could rest his cheek against her soft vibrant locks and breath her in. He shivered.

"I'm sorry Donnie!" The girl suddenly blurted out, her passing fear of what was about to happen still painfully obvious. "I-I should've told you about the magnetic tracker. I-I just wanted to help you guys out, tr-track the rest of the stolen Krangg tech, Donnie?"

The youth just held April closer. He wanted to sound confidant and sure of himself when he delivered his next words to her, to reassure her but his frothing emotions betrayed him and it came out as whimper. "I-I'm jus-just so happy you're alive." Alive. Safe and alive and breathing in his embrace. He never wanted to loose this feeling, he was never going to hesitate ever again.

However the elation was short lived when he heard the panicked cries of his brothers. The screams from his nightmare reared horrible and fresh in his mind and his grip tightened on April as he wailed. "I killed them! I let them die all over again!"

There was a muffled bang and a sudden shattering of glass and a subsequent crash as something smashed into the metal flooring with great force. He felt an urgent tug on his shoulders and April's sweet voice was in his ears. "No, Donnie, no! Look! They're okay! Just look!"

Donnie peered up because he trusted her. She would never lie to him. There was smoke all around and a chorus of coughing fits as it cleared.

"Next time a warning would be nice Mikey! Why didn't you tell us your plan?"

"You would have stopped me and then we'd all be turtle soup by now!"

There was a dull thud and Mikey yelped.

"C'mon ease up Raph, is everyone okay?"

Donnie blinked almost in disbelief a lump quickly rising in his throat as he watched his brothers' antics. He barely suppressed a hiccup of a sob as he carefully placed April down and ran to them, throwing his arms about the rather surprised trio unable to speak a word.

"Hey! Whoa Donnie, give a guy some space will ya?"

He felt a hand in his plastron shove him back but he didn't care; he let go when he was ready Raphael's obvious strength unable to pry him off until he relinquished his hold. "Y-you're alive," he whispered, feeling the moistness that began dampening him mask.

Baxter Stockman's face suddenly appeared on the screen above. "NO! No, no, no, NO! You weren't meant to save them!"

Donnie's reaction was immediate. He spun round snatching up his staff as he growled up at the mad scientist's furious face. "You want us dead? Try harder you sick psychopath!" With that he hurled his staff at the screen which struck dead centre, the monitor instantly spider webbed and shattered.

Donatello pressed the back of his hand to his eyes as he staggered back then feeling Leo's hand upon his shoulder. "Don, you okay?"

He sensed April approach him on his other side and numbly shook his head, unable to even attempt to throw up pretence. "No," his voice grated softly, hand still to his eyes. "No, I'm not."

Baxter's voice, high pitched with anger, indignation and fury then screeched over head. "We'll see about that turtles! Try and defeat my legion of Mousers without weapons!" A second later the sliding door that Donatello had emerged from hissed open and an immediate cacophony of metallic shrieks and squeals spilled into the chamber.

Donnie's eyes flicked toward the encroaching noise, feeling his staff slipped into his shivering hand by someone. He didn't even register it and clutched the weapon instinctively to his plastron. How did they get out of here now?

"Any ideas chief?" Raph said, taking a cautionary step back as the Mousers started to appear in vast numbers.

"Weapons check, apart for Donnie who else has anything offensive on them?"

Before anyone else had a chance to pat himself or herself down, Mikey tapped his big brother's shoulder. "Leo?" He held out a handful of shurikens. "How bout these?"

The look was a dubious one. "I doubt they will get us too far Mikey, nice tr-"

"They will Leo!" Mikey insisted and nodded in Donatello's direction. "Donnie made them, they're Exploding Shurikens!"

"What?" Was the incredulous reply.

"Right Donnie?"

"Huh?" Donnie tore his sights away from the Mousers and found himself presented with the shurikens he'd been working with for the past few days.

"Exploding Shurikens Donnie, I-I took some from your lab, er sorry," Mikey added quickly.

For a second it was like old times, Mikey touching things in his lab that were strictly off limits and the annoyance flashed briefly across his features but it was lost in an instant. "I-I hadn't tested them yet," he stammered.

"What do you think blew up our giant test tube bro?"

"Y-yes I know that!" Donnie snapped testily.

Leo's hand was on his shoulder again. "Will they work? Is there enough power in them to take out most of the Mousers Donnie?"

"Er," Donnie's thought process scrambled together as he summoned them to make the rapid calculation swiftly gathering the knowledge in his beleaguered mind that he already had. "The shurikens have a blast radius of roughly 15 feet, um the width of the warehouse is 52.7 feet wide which would be-," the calculation continued his head, eyes shut as he strove to concentrate from the distractions around him. "How many shurikens have you left Mikey?"

Michelangelo shifted them about in his hand as he counted. "Five bro."

This was added to the equation and Donnie opened his eyes. "The shock wave from the blast will take the majority of the Mousers out if we throw them one after another in sections," he said quickly indicating what he meant.

"Great," Leo nodded. "C'mon guys one each and follow Donnie's lead."

Everyone took a shuriken each and Donatello snapped his sights back to the encroaching mechanical enemy. Red eyes flashed and Donnie threw his star into the mass and immediately nodded to Leo, Mikey and then April next followed Raphael. The explosions rang out deafeningly as each throwing star detonated on impact with whatever it struck. It happened in quick succession, BOOM! His. BOOM! Leo's. BOOM! Raph's. BOOM! Michelangelo's. BOOM! April's. The echo from the demolition in his dream seemed to resonate through his being as each shuriken did their job. They were here; they were all here and alive but each destructive explosion reminding him of what it was like to live without them. By the time April's throwing star detonated and the last of the Mousers lay in pieces Donatello could barely breathe.


	14. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my dear readers, here we go. Final chapter to the Choice! Phew! I got there in the end. Enjoy everyone, it's been a wild ride my friends. Please do enjoy my dears :D

The Mousers lay in fractured pieces, inert and soundless as the last of the shrapnel fell around their charred metallic husks. The gang peered up from behind their makeshift shelter of the broken cylinder. Michelangelo let a low whistle and shook his head.

"Dudes, that was a close one," he promptly received a cuff round the back of the head. "Ow!"

"Just state the freaking obvious Mikey," Raphael said dryly, then crunched his knuckles. "Now where's that sicko scientist, I need to turn him into paste!"

"He's not here," said a quiet voice. "He did it all by remote. Stockman was nowhere near this place."

"How could you possibly know that?"

Mikey watched as Donnie shook his head. Clearly too much was still rushing through his mind. "It doesn't matter."

It wasn't like Donnie not to explain something when the opportunity presented itself. He loved to explain things, even when nobody asked the question in the first place.

Re-living that nightmare must have shaken his brother up more than he realised because he still looked haunted and tense, drained almost, not like his older brother at all. "Donnie?"

Leo and April also looked ready to voice their concerns, when an electrical spark and a half broken squeal emitted from the Mouser wreckage. The reaction from Donatello was immediate and startling. He darted into the mechanical remains, summoning the naginata blade and stabbed it into the twitching Mouser. Although it was quite obviously destroyed Don raised the staff above his head, the body skewered to the blade and smashed it heavily into the floor with a yell. The unfortunate robot shattered, its remains dangling haphazardly from the staff. There the turtle paused.

"Whoa Donnie, I think you got 'I'm," Raph uttered. He was clearly surprised as Mikey was as he gave him a sidelong glance. Losing his rag and acting rashly was usually his department. Donnie was steadfast and sure and never made an irrational move.

Michelangelo watched as Donatello seemed to hear something else. His head whipped round and the naginata was plunged down again. Once more he turned and stabbed through the wreckage again and again. Like a mad man possessed Donnie ploughed through the metal slashing, stabbing and smashing. As his blade got clogged he swept his already lacerated hand over the end dislodging the Mouser carcasses, blood smearing heedlessly over the shaft and blade and he'd start all over again.

On Donnie's fourth attempt of clearing the now bloodied naginata blade, the spell the others seemed to be under snapped. Donatello's harsh cries and shocking curses bounced off every metal wall and as Leonardo made to dodge forward Mikey grabbed his arm and shook his head. With his eyes alone Michelangelo told his brother that he could stop this. He was the only one who could. Leo didn't stand in his way.

Mikey darted through the swathe of destruction and seized his tall brother's arms before he got a chance to clear the blade again. "Donnie! Bro c'mon! You do know you're not dreaming any more, right?"

The angry glare that shot down at Mikey lasted a full minute before it abruptly fell and an untold anguish crashed in around Donnie's features. Unshed tears glistened in the back of his intense chestnut eyes and a broken sob escaped. "Mikey?" he whimpered.

"It's alright bro, we're all here. We're all alive. You're awake. We're all safe."

Donatello's bottom jaw trembled as he heavily leant against his bloody staff. His eyes suddenly clenched shut and his knees buckled and folded up beneath him. His body quickly sank to the floor, the bo slipping from his hands. Automatically Michelangelo dropped to the floor with him, hands still supporting his arms. The normally level headed turtle released a low moan and shook his head. Mikey's features creased with concern.

"You weren't there Mikey," Donnie uttered in barely a whisper. "Y-you weren't there to wake me up."

"I'm sorry Donnie, we were all out for the count there for a little while," his brother's eyes remained closed as a trembling breath shuddered from his chest. Mikey bit his bottom lip, briefly looking away. "You know I would've if I could've, right?"

For a moment there was silence and Mikey canted his head with worry. "Right Donnie?"

Finally Donatello nodded. "I-I know," he managed to say. The teen paused for a moment as if contemplating something. Finding the resolve he continued. "I lived my entire life without you Mikey, without any of you. I-I was an old man when I demolished the building after I defeated Stockman."

Michelangelo blinked in disbelief. "I-I'm sorry D," he uttered at a loss of what else to say. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to loose everyone he cared about, let alone live an entire life without them. The very idea made him shiver.

Donatello's trembling voice sounded again and Mikey looked back up. "I-I lived my entire life believing Th-that I'd-I'd killed you all be-because I couldn't make a decision. It-it was-"

Michelangelo immediately grasped his older brother's shoulders and gave him a firm shake making his open his eyes to look straight into his. "Listen Donnie, I was never gonna let you make that choice because nobody, nobody could've made it, you hear me bro?"

The threatening tears at last spilled, glistening rivulets tracing down his olive cheeks. With a gasp Donnie lunged forward and grabbed Mikey in a fierce  
embrace. Words were quite clearly beyond him. Sobs heaved his chest and after a moment of surprise, Michelangelo returned the embrace. "It's okay Donnie, it's okay."

It was unclear as to how much time had passed when Leonardo saw fit to clear his throat. "We'd better get out of this place guys, before Stockman decides to spring any more surprises on us."

Michelangelo guided Donatello to his feet, April offering a helping hand before the others could get close. Mikey was no doctor, he was no scientist but even he knew that his smart brother was completely drained on every level physically and emotionally. They had to get him home as quickly as possible.

Moments later the group made their way out of the building, using the same route they had come in from. Mikey didn't know if it was his imagination but the moment the fresh air of the cold night hit their skin, Donatello's whole form seemed to sag more heavily against him and April. It was almost as if his entire body was breathing a great sigh of relief.

XXXX

It seemed like a lifetime since he had stepped into the lair with his family around him and indeed in his mind it felt like just that. So when Master Splinter's resonant voice travelled across their home Donnie all but lost himself. A lump in his throat swelled painfully and his eyes involuntarily glazed over as tears filled them against his will.

"My sons I was beginning to worry. You took longer than I anticipated."

"It-it's a bit of a long story sensei."

"I have nothing but time Leonardo," the father answered patiently.  
A hiccup of a sob escaped before Donnie could stop it and all eyes slid instantly in his direction.

"Donnie man, you feeling okay?"

"I don't know Raph, you try living your entire life without your family and your beloved and then tell me how you feel. Because I'm sure the last thing you're going to say is 'okay'!" The words tumbled out unchecked and delivered a lot more harshly than he intended.

Donnie felt Raph's glare and couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," he muttered.

He heard Leo clear his throat. "Donnie, um, had a bit of a rough time tonight."

"Rough? That's the understatement if the century," Raph's apparent annoyance quickly evaporated into his familiar dry cut sarcasm. "Stacker Boxboy put Donnie through the ringer, an I swear if I ever lay my hands on him he's gonna freakin' know what that feels like!"

"Raphael, that is enough. I am sure your brother can speak for himself."

Donnie could feel his sensei's eyes focus on him but still he couldn't bring himself to raise his own to anyone. It was all too much. It didn't help that his head still pounded from slamming his skull against that metal girder when he was struck by that swinging counterweight. He sighed deeply, a slight tremor in his breath when he suddenly realised Splinter was still waiting for his response.

"Donatello?"

"I-I-," the words wouldn't form, they refused to come. The lump swelled painfully in his throat. How could he understand? How could any of them understand? His eyes grew moist feeling every attention upon him and finally just looked deep into his father's astute gaze. Splinter stared right back, his amber orbs softening ever so imperceptibly and his gave the faintest of nods to him.

"Leonardo can you retrieve the medical kit and Raphael can you gather up some clean bandages?"

Without a word the two brothers nodded and hurried to do their father's bidding.

Splinter then looked to April and pulled something out of his robe's pocket. "April, I have a bottle of surgical spirits locked in a small wooden chest in the corner of my room. Could you fetch it for me child?" he dropped a small key on a cord into her hand.

"Yes Master Splinter," April replied with a respectful bow of her head.

Then she turned to him placed soft hands either side of his face and gently pulled his head down, planting a warm kiss on his forehead. Donnie held his breath, the feel of those perfect lips upon his clammy skin paused the world and for a spilt second nothing mattered. The lingering warmth tingled as she drew back and petted his cheek.

"I'll be back in a minute Donnie," she smiled fondly before turning away to do Splinter's bidding.

Donnie's heart literally ached as she moved away. He suddenly wanted to hold her again, hold her tight and never let go. In the time that he had supposedly lived in his mind he had discovered something. Something that had kept his awake night after night. April was his everything. As weary eyes watched her leave Donnie resolved to do the one thing that he had regretted his entire life in that other world. Telling April exactly how he felt.

It was only when he heard Master Splinter ask Mikey to help his brothers that he suddenly snapped back to the here and now.

"NO!" The pair looked at him and Donnie glanced ashamedly down at the floor. "No, I-I would like Mikey to stay sensei."

The tall rat nodded. "As you wish my son," and he guided them to the lowered seating area in the main room.

Donatello sat back on the sofa, Mikey letting him go to perch beside him, his big wide eyes flicking from him back to Master Splinter. For a moment the young teen let his eyes slip shut as the fatigue swept over him in one giant wave. His head slipped back and he just sat, feeling the comfort of a familiar seat and cushions that cradled his body.

"Donatello? Do you feel ready to speak my son?"

Donnie reluctantly blinked open his eyes and stared straight ahead for a moment. He clenched his eyes tightly shut again, hand to his head as he bit his bottom lip. He felt a hand open his shell and a youthful voice in his ears.

"D, you know you can tell Master Splinter everything now?"

"I know," Donnie whispered. His emotions were such a wobbly mess right now. He doubted he could keep a steady tone but really now though, did any of that really matter right now? No. No it didn't.

"My son?"

"Okay," Donnie uttered huskily. "I've been having this nightmare over the past two weeks and only Michelangelo knows about it. Each time I had it, it got worse and worse and Mikey told me to tell you about it Sensei but, I-I didn't think it-it warranted the fuss."

"Until earlier tonight bro."

Donatello side glanced his younger brother. "Yeah," he whispered. "That's right, until I got the call from April and suddenly my nightmare started to come true-," he his voice broke ever so slightly. "I-I was reliving every action, every-every word and I couldn't stop it-," his voice tailed off as he tried to re-order his thoughts.

"You can do it Donnie," Mikey encouraged quietly. "Once you say it, you don't have to say it again bro."

Donatello nipped his bottom lip and finally nodded. Yes, once he spoke it all he didn't have to repeat it. "Thanks Mikey," and he meant it. With a summoning breath Donnie continued. "Baxter Stockman had set a trap an-and he forced me to choose between my brothers and April. An-and I couldn't make the choice. H-he ki-killed them, all of them," the tears welled at the recollection. "It was horrible. And then I-I was alone. I-I lived thirty years without my brothers or April and for the longest time it-it was just you and me Master Splinter, you gave me the title of Ninja Master and then I-I was totally alone and that was even worse."

Donnie's eyes glazed over, the tears still threatening but he denied them. "Over all that time I plotted to bring Stockman to justice for what he did but it took so long. For me it was only yesterday that I finally caught up with him thinks to Karai."

Mikey's eyes goggled for a moment. ""You were friends with Karai dude?"

"No, no I wasn't Mikey. She was a thorn in my side," Donnie recalled with a cold tone.

"Continue my son," Splinter prompted as the youth fell silent.

Donnie nodded. "When I finally confronted Stockman it didn't go at all as I had planned. He plunged to the ground after he fell out a window. I felt cheated but there was little I could do about it. I continued with my plan and I blew up the damned warehouse where it a happened. There-there were secondary explosions to the ones I had set. They cause by the exploding shurikens Mikey had suggested years before. That was when I realised I could have stopped it all from occurring. Then I think I got knocked out by a falling timber or something and I-I woke up exactly where I started."

Donnie had to stop. He pressed a hand to his mouth and tried to muster his strength to continue. Master Splinter was waiting patiently.

"Th-the nightmare started all over again. I-I was terrified it was going to end the same way."

"But, it did not."

Donnie shook his head. "No sensei," he managed a brief glance at Michelangelo. "If it wasn't for Mikey, it would have happened all over again."

"Then you have much to thank Michelangelo for Donatello-," Splinter seemed ready to say more but a swift twitch of his ears had him looking over his shoulder. "We will continue this in a moment my son, I must check on you brothers," he said pointedly to the space behind him. He got to his feet and there was a suddenly a rushed padding of feet.

Donnie twisted around just in time to see Raph and Leo disappear out of sight as Splinter followed them. He scrunched his eyes up and hung his head. He hadn't wanted his brothers to hear his story whilst he was this raw. He would have preferred that they hadn't of heard it at all. He sighed deeply, well what was done was done.

Donnie could feel his young brother's eyes upon him and taking a deep breath in he met his gaze. "Thank you Mikey. Thank you for everything. I-I couldn't have got this far without you."

"It's okay D," Michelangelo gave a small smile back. "I did what I had to do."

The sight of Mikey's innocent face, the genuine smile caused a pang in Donatello's breast. "I really missed you Mikey," he uttered with a lump in his throat.

Mikey looked at him confused for a moment. "But D I didn't go anywhere."

Donnie felt a gentle half laugh bubble up his throat and let his head fall against Mikey's.

"You okay Donnie?"

"I'm good Mikey," Donnie uttered tiredly. "I'm good now."


End file.
